


May You Remember Me

by awkwardrainbow



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/F, Forgetful Lexa, Heda Clarke, Lots of Angst, Slow Burn, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-29 05:11:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 55,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6360853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardrainbow/pseuds/awkwardrainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa has three memories.<br/>Her first memory, is her name being said in desperation. The memory is black, but she knows it's her name for some reason. The feeling that the desperate voice is calling out for her is too strong for it to be anyone else's name but her own.<br/>Her second memory, is another's name... Clarke. A girl maybe. This memory is also black, but Lexa can hear herself saying it as if this person single handedly meant the most to her. She says it so gentle, full of love, and Lexa's heart aches whenever this memory is somehow triggered.<br/>Her third memory, is of eyes. Blue eyes. Blue eyes that seem deep and struggling to find something. They are probably the most beautiful that Lexa has ever seen, even though she can't remember much from whatever previous life she may have lived. This memory appears to Lexa the most, and is the only one that isn't black. And somehow Lexa just knows that these blue eyes also belong to Clarke. </p><p>Or Lexa awakes in the woods a while after the City of Light was destroyed and struggles to remember who she is and where she belongs in a universe that makes no sense. She survives on little memory, and slowly gains it back when she meets Clarke again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gada

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever Clexa fanfiction. I actually write all the time, but I don't write fanfics. So I promise it won't be terrible. =) Be honest though and tell me what you think. I hope you like it. I've had this idea in my head for awhile, so I really want to put it down. =D 
> 
> Italics with qutation marks around them is the people speaking in trideslang. It's too stressful to actually write the langeuge when I'm going to have to use it so much so in this story because of it being the grounder's peaceful langeuge. :)
> 
> UPDATED: if you have read this story when I first came out with it y'all know what a mess the trideslang thing was in this first chapter. I've fixed it, but kept a few of the minor words in its original langeuge and I'll put the translation up here so you can maybe know what those words mean when they come up in the story, but if you don't, it won't realy take away from the story like it had before. I do apologize for the disastor that was, I have finally fixed it. This was my first fic, so we'll see what other mistakes we find. ;)
> 
> Translations for below words:  
> Kei ~ Okay  
> Gada ~ Girl  
> Heda ~ Commander  
> Leksa kom Trikru ~ Lexa of the tree people  
> Heda gon peace ~ Commander of peace  
> Klark kom skaikru ~ Clarke of the sky people  
> Mochof ~ Thank you  
> Bants osir ~ Leave us
> 
> Please enjoy, I really hope you like it. =D

Lexa awoke in the woods with little memory of how she had gotten there. Well, actually, with little memory of anything, really. The grass was wet below her; the air was musty and chilly and on top of that, Lexa’s body felt extremely cold. It made her shudder. Warmth was being provided by the sun that peeked through the trees, but little of it got to her and the little that did, didn’t seem to help that much. It felt almost as if Lexa had been lying in ice for days, weeks, maybe even months.

She was surrounded by trees and absolutely no people. No inclination that a living soul was even close by. She had no idea where she was and no idea who she was. It caused an unsettling feeling to form in the pit of her stomach the moment she opened her light green orbs to unfamiliar surroundings.

Her head was pounding fiercely, even aching. The first thing she did when she shot up from the place on the grass she had been laying on was grab it. The second thing was instinctual. She moved quickly once her eyes had adjusted, she was graceful getting up, but standing was another story. She caught a tree instantly, leaning on it as a groan released from her dry throat. Where was she? And by god, why did her entire body hurt?

After leaning on the tree for longer than she’d like to admit, she managed to begin to move, no matter how much her body screamed at her not to do so. She released another groan as she took a couple steps forward; her body was aching and begging for her to sit back down. But she wouldn’t. Being in this kind of position, in an unfamiliar location with no memory of who she even was made Lexa feel vulnerable, and something in her head was telling her that she hates feeling vulnerable.

The pounding in her head didn’t subside as she moved. In fact, with every step it seemed to get worse. However, this time she held back her groans of pain and managed to walk without scrunching up her face to the prickling that would occur all over her body from a single movement. Once Lexa had gotten the hang of walking normally, and it was no longer so painful, she began to move around her surroundings in search.

Lexa was looking for anything that would strike some kind of familiarity in her, some kind of lost memory of something to give her some kind of clue as to who she is and what she might be doing here. She was freezing, her limbs hurt, her head pounded with questions and ached with pain, she didn’t know who she was, she didn’t know where she was, and anyone else would have panicked uncontrollably. But again, some kind of feeling within Lexa told her she’d never do such a thing.

Her eyes grazed fresh green grass, an abundance of trees that almost seemed never ending, large rocks scattered around in different places and she thought she could hear flowing water somewhere nearby. She liked the sounds and smells of her current location. Something about it had managed to relax her. But regardless of how peaceful it was, she was still very cold and very confused. And the sound of water allowed the realization to dawn on her that she was actually extremely parched.

So she turned around a few times listening in which direction the sound of flowing water was coming from, and when she had picked up on it, she took off. Lexa found the river rather quickly for someone that was as lost as she was. She had a small nagging feeling at the back of her mind that told her maybe she has been here before, even though no memory or familiarity managed to creep its way into her brain.

Once Lexa had satisfied her thirst and had gotten comfortable with her surroundings, she began to search for some kind of road or people that might be able to direct her somewhere. Maybe someone would even remember her since she couldn’t seem to remember herself. And so she walked. She walked for what felt like hours before she found road. She was tired and hungry and still clueless, but her confidence boosted a little at the sight of the dirt path. But this didn’t help her frustration which had grown immensely since starting her journey, and a voice in her head told her she’d feel this way often. It unsettled Lexa even more. She wished the voice would tell her who she was and what she was doing here, otherwise it felt rather useless to her.

The confidence she had gained from finding the dirt path had quickly diminished when she realized there wasn’t a single person on it. And she walked for what felt like more hours without passing a living soul. Wherever she had been dropped it was vacant land, and Lexa got this nagging feeling that maybe that was the point after all.

It wasn’t until Lexa – exhausted, hungry, and still very much confused – sat down that someone actually appeared on the road. She had been looking for people, but she grew weary at the sight, and she suddenly stood, not allowing herself to show how weak she truly felt. The man stopped close to her, his eyes squinting with suspicion. He examined Lexa’s face and though it made Lexa uncomfortable she kept her eyes on his.

 _“What is your name girl?”_ The man’s voice was thick, and Lexa was actually surprised she knew what he was saying. And that’s when Lexa had her first memory. The memory was black, but she could hear a voice, and a desperate cry of a name, her name. It was a girl’s voice, she sounded distraught and it caused Lexa to gasp and stumble back slightly. Pain hit Lexa’s stomach at random and she grabbed at her side without understanding. The girl’s voice came again, the same desperation, the same pain in it as the name echoed through Lexa’s head. _Lexa…_

The man in front of her widened his eyes slightly in curiosity. He didn’t seem like a threat, but as the voice faded from Lexa’s mind, she couldn’t manage to find the nerve to tell him of the name she just learned. She wanted too, she even started too, and she needed help, food, rest. But Lexa couldn’t help but be suspicious of a perfect stranger when she was a stranger to herself.

 _“Alex,”_ Lexa heard herself saying it before she had fully thought it through, and the man before her narrowed his eyes in further suspicion. He let his dark brown gaze sweep down her again, taking in her smallish frame though with a confident stance, before letting his gaze and stature visibly relax.

 _“I’m Gustan, but you can call me Gus.”_ He replied gently. His eyes crinkled with his smile and Lexa suddenly felt that maybe she had found help. Gus turned around briefly pulling out a bottle of some kind and offered it to her. _“You look like you need assistance.”_ He mumbled gently, and though the man was large and intimidating, his eyes spoke the opposite. They were a gentle warm brown, and his smile lit up his face making him seem smaller than he really was.

Lexa hesitated but eventually reached out to take the bottle offered, and was rather happy when the liquid made its way down her throat. Gus observed her gently, waiting for her to finish before handing her a piece of bread which she devoured rather quickly. Gus tried to hold back, but a small chuckle escaped his lips before he could stop it, causing Lexa to snap her spine back into overly straight posture. She didn’t want to appear vulnerable and weak, no matter how hungry she was.

 _“Are you lost?”_ He asked gently, noticing the sudden change in demeanor and was now trying to find a way to get her to relax again. She only stared at him sizing him up again. Should she admit that she is lost? Would that be putting her in danger, in a vulnerable place? She does need help… _“You can follow me back to town; keep as much distance as you want.”_ Gus says gently, his smile appearing again, crinkling his warm brown eyes.

Lexa let out a breath. _“kei,”_ She whispered softly. To this, Gus replied with a toothy grin this time, lighting up every single feature on his face. It almost made Lexa smile too. They walked mostly in silence with Lexa on guard for who knows what and Gus peeking glances at her. His long beard flowed in the wind, and his hair was covered by a dark blue colored cloth. Lexa figured he has a weapon, he seemed like the type, but she was fairly confident he wouldn’t be using it on her.

That voice in the back of her head told her she could handle it even if he tried.

“ _Want to know something funny?_ ” Gus said after a long bout of silence. Lexa felt herself stiffen slightly at his words. Her brain processed them quickly, the language coming easy to her. Muscle memory she supposed. If only she could remember more.

She didn’t reply to him and she had no intention of doing so, and somehow Gus knew this. His grin stayed in place as he pulled the cart behind him with one of his hands and waved the other in front of him as a gesture for him to speak. Lexa found it to be an odd gesture, but didn’t say anything. “ _Our former Heda looks just like you.”_ He let out a low deep chuckle that was rather contagious and caused Lexa’s lips to tug upward slightly.

 _“Former?”_ She questions quietly. Her voice is thick and scratchy, but not as limp as it had sounded when she first used it to respond. The big guy glances at her with sparkling eyes and nods his head.

 _“Leksa kom Trikru.”_ He says her name proudly; as if she had been the best leader he could have asked for. _“Heda gon peace.”_ His grin widens and he looks down at Lexa with a rather toothy grin. Lexa finds herself responding with a small smile before she can stop herself. This seems to make the big guy happy and he even bobs his head a little as they continue walking the dirt path. _“Of course, klark kom skaikru is heda now_.” He’s still bobbing his head happily as Lexa looks to him.

 _“Klark?”_ As the name is squeezed through her lips, tested on her tongue, another memory is flashing through her. It makes her stop her movements, another gasp coming from her lips. Gus stops as well, curiously looking over the strange girl he had picked up whom looks suspiciously like Lexa. The memory is black, but somehow it renders Lexa motionless. A soft voice, her voice, yes that’s her voice is breaking through the silence in her head. It’s saying that name… but different than the man had said it. _Clarke…_ It is gentle and delicate, almost as if the small name is cherished. The sound squeezes Lexa’s heart as if it was more important than anything else, even her own life.

When her own voice is fading from her mind she shakes it off. Her eyes instantly meet the brown orbs of Gus who is still observing her curiously. _“I apologize,”_ Lexa mutters quietly, looking down at the ground and kicking her feet a little. Gus hesitates but places a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.

 _“How about we get back to the village and get you some food and a place to rest and you can tell me why I found you all alone on the side of the road?”_ He asks gently, his touch gentle enough that Lexa doesn’t feel threatened. She nods slowly her eyes meeting his, and she finds comfort within his wide smile and crinkling eyes. They begin to walk again and this time, Lexa finds herself speaking up to make the conversation.

 _“I cannot tell you why, because I do not know.”_ She mutters quietly, and shivers a little as a breeze starts to pass through the air. It’s getting colder, and Lexa isn’t in much to keep her warm. Her brown hair down in braids, a grey shirt covered her body but it was sleeveless and only warmed her so much. She had black jeans that fit snuggly around her waist and legs, and shoes that matched the color of her jeans, but the outfit felt as if it didn’t belong on her. Something in the back of Lexa’s mind was telling her she usually carried weapons and looked rather threatening, even though no image ever surfaced.

 _“What do you mean, girl?”_ He replies softly keeping his eyes ahead of him. He bobbed his head as if music was playing behind them. His soft smile remaining on his lips, growing and shrinking but always staying. His eyes were alit with some kind of humor mixed with friendliness. Gus’s entire demeanor encouraged Lexa to open up further.

 _“I do not… remember things.”_ She whispers and looks away from Gus as he looks at her. His gaze is curious, in fact, Lexa was sure it had remained curious since they had met up miles back.

 _“Not a thing, gada?”_ Why he continues to call Lexa girl, when she had already given him a name didn’t make much sense to her. She didn’t question it though and only nodded in response to his question. Her gaze falling ahead of her as fire light appeared ahead. They must be close to the village, and at this thought, Lexa’s stomach grumbled hungrily. Gus released a soft affectionate chuckle at the sound and turned into his cart to pull out some more bread. _“Here you are gada, to tide you over.”_ Lexa managed a blush and took the bread willingly, trying to eat it slower than she had her last piece.

 _“Mochof,”_ She muttered halfway through the piece and took a small amount of pride in the way his features lit up at her politeness. His behavior was contagious and Lexa found that she must be very lucky to have found someone on the dirt path like him. It just as easily could have been someone terrible.

 _“We’re almost there gada, and then maybe you can tell me you’re real name huh?”_ He only stared ahead of him still, smiling with amusement as Lexa whipped her head up to look at him in surprise. He stopped a moment, Lexa still watching him with wide eyes, as he pulled a long green cloth from his cart. It seemed rather clean and looked warm, and Lexa took it instantly as Gus handed it to her. He chuckled at her eagerness. _“Wrap that around your face as well, gada.”_ He urged gently and even helped her as she shuffled the cloth around her arms and shoulders. It was brought up into a hood around her head and a piece of it wrapped around her mouth and nose, covering up most of her face. Good thing she finished that bread.

This man knew. He knew who Lexa was, or he assumed he knew. And Lexa, Lexa didn’t know herself at all so what right did she have to say that he didn’t know? In fact, if he did know, that could help her immensely, since her memory seemed to come back very little and without any detail.

Lexa let her wonderful green eyes meet his soft brown orbs. The sun was setting, and darkness was descending upon them and the village that grew closer. But Lexa suddenly didn’t feel as scared standing beside this man. He gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder, and urged her forward, and they did not speak again until they entered the village. 

 

...

 

Clarke twirled the small dagger in her lap. The throne beneath her felt foreign, though she had been reassured time and time again that she’d get used to it. Clarke didn’t want to be commander, not really. But she was the one the grounders had looked to after saving everyone from the City of Light. And Lexa had trusted her, which improved her reputation immensely after the City of Light fiasco.

Lexa’s legacy remains to be peace, though Clarke feels rather bitter without her by her side, where she belongs. The bitterness grew as she thought about the former commander, the dagger in her fingers, and the throne beneath her. These things belong to Lexa. The sash on her side – wrapped tightly around her waist because she didn’t believe she deserved to be wearing it at all – belongs to Lexa. All of it, all of polis, all of its people, all of the thirteen clans, they belong to Lexa. Lexa, who fought so hard for peace, and a better future. _Lexa_.

Clarke shook her head, feeling the tears well up in her eyes and she quickly fought them down. She had cried enough. _Weakness_. She felt the word shuffle through her head bitterly. She wouldn’t be weak anymore. Not for Lexa, not for her people, not for Polis. She’d be ruthless and strong, and think of Lexa as she led their people. Because Lexa may be gone, but not truly. Lexa lives. She lives in the young nightbloods that now no longer hold the pressure of a conclave. She lives in the citizens in Polis and all of the villages that no longer have to be afraid of weapons and war. She lives within Clarke, who thinks of her with every decision she makes, who thinks of her with every command she gives, who thinks of her with every twirl of her own blade. Lexa’s spirit remains alive within Polis and all over the thirteen clans. Lexa is the commander of peace, her legacy will never be forgotten.

Clarke is, and will always be sure of that.

The doors to the throne room slam open rather heavily making Clarke jump out of her reverie in her seat. She had only been commander for two weeks, and it was possibly the most stressful thing she’s ever had to do. Beyond leading her 100, and even some of the skaikru. She prepared herself as her guards marched into her room, but visibly relaxed when Octavia came into view, rolling her eyes at the way the guards insisted on not leaving Clarke alone with her.

“Heda,” Octavia shot up teasingly, knowing how Clarke hates it when Octavia uses the title against her. Clarke stepped down from her throne to meet Octavia somewhere in the middle of the room. She only had to meet her eyes once for her to know that Octavia wanted to speak to her alone.

“Bants osir,” Clarke muttered out confidently to the guards, who stared at her with a moment’s hesitation before listening and exiting the room to stand right outside of the door. Octavia just grinned at her amusedly before turning her head to the side slightly to allow one of her famous smirks to settle in place. “Shut up,” Clarke says rolling her eyes and shoving the dagger into strap in her boot.

“Sinking into this commander role I see,” Octavia tries anyway, since Clarke doesn’t often joke anymore, or show signs of amusement at all. Octavia wants to string it out, to make her smile, but this attempt doesn’t work. She does receive an affectionate glare though, which counts for something in Octavia’s book.

“What did you come for Octavia?” Clarke asks gently. Her eyes softening as she looks at the brunette. Octavia returns her soft smile, a sadness eating away at her as she takes in the blonde before her. Clarke wasn’t wearing any war paint, as she had previously the last time Octavia had seen her. But regardless of that, she looked more like a grounder then Octavia was completely used to. Her hair was clean and long down her back, but it was pulled into those braids that the warriors wear in their hair. Octavia herself sports those same braids. The red sash that was given to every commander was snug around her waist, while the rest of her was covered in black clothing from head to toe. Octavia couldn’t help but think how the outfit reflected Clarke’s attitude since Lexa’s demise the second time. Clarke wore a long sleeve black shirt that stopped at the edge of her hands, snug black skinny jeans that fit nicely around her body and hugged her curves, and black combat boots that easily hid the dagger she just shoved into it. Octavia would have complimented the outfit, if she didn’t miss the old Clarke so much.

“Bellamy’s sentence starts tomorrow. You know it’s not grounder tradition to hold prison sentences. I just wanted…”

“I assure you Octavia, Bellamy will be safe.” Clarke interrupts, looking away from Octavia as if almost bored. Octavia knows why she gives that looks. It’s to appear ruthless, disinterested, and emotionless. Clarke schooled her features constantly, hid her feelings every day. It slightly angered Octavia that she did so, though she understand why. 

“It’s not that.” Octavia wanted emotion from the blonde, she yearned for it. Her friend was in there somewhere screaming, and Octavia wanted to help her get out. But she knew she had to be careful, and though right now it seemed there was no hope in finding the loving blonde, Octavia knew she’d eventually come back. Clarke was to sweet, to compassionate to pretend to be ruthless and heartless for the rest of her life as Commander. Clarke would come back, but it would take time.

“What is it than Octavia?” Clarke asks gently, the only sign that she holds affection still in her heart for the boisterous brunette. Octavia heavies a sigh and looks down at the ground. Her heart still hurts from all that Bellamy has done, even the thought of a dead Lincoln still haunts her dreams at night. It's only until he wakes her and she realizes he is right next to her that she is able to calm down. Bellamy almost took him away, and Octavia hasn’t completely forgiven him for that.

“I wanted to visit him. I’m trying to…” She releases an unsteady breath. “Forgive him I guess, it’s just.” Clarke’s hand is suddenly on Octavia’s shoulder, and it’s gentle and easy and Octavia almost melts into the touch. For a second, old Clarke is back, and how much Octavia misses Clarke starts crashing down on her.

“I know it’s hard, for the both of you.” Clarke whispers gently, and even her expression is soft when Octavia looks up to meet her delicate blue eyes. “But you have to remember it’s not completely his fault that Lincoln…” Clarke can’t say it, for some reason she can’t manage to talk about Lincoln’s death, even though he isn’t dead. It shook her too much. She knew why, she knew where Octavia would be if Lincoln had really died in Arkadia those months ago. She knew how hurt Octavia would be, how broken, because that’s Clarke now. “He saw what he was doing. It took him time to stop being such an idiot, but, he was able to see. He helped save Lincoln, yes maybe after putting him in danger, but…” Clarke sighs now, removing her hand from Octavia’s shoulder and straightening her posture again. Compassionate Clarke was fleeing quickly and Octavia wanted to scream at the sight.

“Will I be able to visit him? I’m not sure how you’ve set up imprisonment.” Octavia mumbles out gently. Her voice is soft, lacking her normal rasp. She wants loving Clarke to stay, to comfort her, to laugh with her, to just talk to her. But Clarke was taking a step back from Octavia now, her posture straighter than ever, her eyes hooded with indifference once again. She looked like Lexa in this moment, and Octavia supposed that maybe that was because that’s who Clarke thought of most of the time.

“Of course you’ll be able to visit him. Talk to Damon, my guard on the right on your way out. He’ll give you all the details you need.” Clarke’s voice is demanding and controlled. It makes Octavia ache with longing.

She nods briskly and turns to leave. But Clarke is grabbing her arm again and pulls her into a hug before she can go. “He’s alive, Octavia. Try to remember that.” Clarke whispers in her ear, holding her tight and close for a couple seconds longer before letting go. Octavia stares at her as Clarke turns her back and heads back up the small steps toward the throne.

Clarke makes to look like she is going to be seated, but once she hears the doors of the room open and close she quickly heads in the direction of the balcony. It looks out on all of Polis, and even though the night is cold and the moon only half full, she can’t imagine spending another second in that room. Lexa is everywhere, suffocating her, and she isn’t even alive. Clarke reaches out, her breath unsteady, clasping onto the railing, looking down at the ground.

She can feel her lungs tightening; it’s getting harder for her to breath. She feels pressures of things that aren’t necessarily visible. It isn’t long until she’s seeing image after image of Lexa and her deaths, and the people that have died because of her. She has these attacks sometimes, and she’s learned when they come. Now wrapped up in a ball at the edge of the railing she waits for them to leave, making no sound. And when it finally subsides, and Clarke’s face is stained with tears and her breath is ragged, she looks up at the stars.

She wonders if Lexa is amongst the stars, or if she’s floating somewhere around the grounds, or if she’s still hanging out in this universe or at least looking down at it. Looking down at Clarke while she cries, while she’s weak. “I’m sorry Lexa,” She whispers, her voice catching in her throat and cracking with vulnerability. “I’m so sorry.” She mumbled out again and the tears keep coming again. She hates crying, but she’s learned that she can’t really control them. Eventually she’s burying her face in her arms, mumbling out apology after apology as if Lexa can hear her. As if Lexa has anything to forgive her for. But in Clarke's mind, she has everything to be apologizing for. Clarke blames herself, continuously. There's never going to be a day where Clarke doesn't blame herself.

She doesn’t find comfort. And when she’s exhausted herself from tears and the heartache of missing Lexa, she eventually retires to her room, Lexa’s old room, and wraps up in furs that somehow still carry her scent. She cries until she falls asleep, and when she sleeps it’s restless, tainted by images of Lexa dying. When she wakes in the morning it is no different than every other morning.

The bags remain under her eyes, her cheeks stained with tears another morning, and a heavy heart barely beating in her chest as she sits up to begin another day.

 

                     

 


	2. Green Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa learns more memories and plans a trip with Gus and Nona to Polis to find Clarke and re-discover who she is.  
> Bad things happen,  
> Clarke and Lexa meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, I'm back with chapter two :D
> 
> I'd just like to note that I tried with the the trigedasleng last chapter and hated how I did it, so I'm just gonna stick to the italics and using very little of it. I hope that's good with you guys.
> 
> I'm really happy that you guys liked the first chapter, I didn't expect to get that amount of attention that I did get and it's honestly really appreciated. I hope you like this chapter as well and all the rest to come.
> 
> Okay, carry on with reading. :D

It was the first dream she had ever had since waking up in the woods. Six months, and no other memory had surfaced until now. It took her ten minutes after she awoke to realize that it even was a memory. It took her another ten to get her heart rate back to normal and her breathing under control. Her body had a thin layer of cold sweat and she had a shiver in her heart she hadn’t ever felt before.

When she was finally able to breathe normally again, her brain began to analyze the dream… no, not a dream but a memory. Nothing extreme had even happened; it had just been a flash of eyes. Blue eyes. Blue eyes like she had never seen before in the six months since she had opened her own. Blue eyes like the sky. Yeah, that’s it, just like the sky.

The dream troubled Lexa. Those eyes reflected longing and searching and pain and love and Lexa couldn’t decipher it. She kept hearing herself say, “ _Clarke… Clarke…”_ Over and over as gentle and sincere as the first time she heard it on the dirt path with Gus. Lexa just knew; she knew that those blue eyes belonged to that name even if it made no sense as to why she was dreaming of her. The eyes, the name, it all had comforted her at first. But then the dream had quickly changed from gentle to silent blackness. That lasted only a moment before the shouting had started, almost a scream. It was her name being shouted in desperation and pain, stronger then the first time she had heard it in her head. It shook Lexa awake. Something inside of her tense and uneasy grew in her and she couldn’t name what it was. She just knew she ached too comfort the voice and those eyes, those beautiful blue eyes that reminded her of the sky.

Lexa’s fingers were tangled in the furs of her bed. Gentle light was peering its way through the window beside her. She normally covered it, but yesterday had been long and she had been too exhausted to do so when she had finally reached home. She regretted that decision now, wanting nothing more than darkness to envelope her and calm her from this memory. Who was Clarke to Lexa? _Clarke of the sky people_. Or, Heda as most referred to her now. She was obviously important, and Gus informed her of little since he too did not know very much.

Lexa shook her head now, her tangled brown curls swirling around her as she did so. Maybe she would have to find Clarke; maybe once she found Clarke, she would regain her memories. But Clarke was in Polis and Clarke was heda. She’d never manage to get close to Clarke as a peasant. Unless Clarke saw her. Clarke knew her, had to remember her… Whatever they were, the desperation in Clarke’s voice as she shouted her name was unmistakable. She cares for her. Or _cared_ for her.

Lexa lets out a heavy sigh before throwing the furs off her body. She didn’t have time to dwell on this, not today. Today she had to trade with Gus, maybe talk to him about a trip to Polis in the near future. She wouldn’t overthink on the blue eyes and desperate voice for now, she wouldn’t question it. Not until she could formulate some kind of plan, that didn’t sound reasonably insane to herself.

She went through the motions of getting ready quickly, accustomed to her environment and surroundings. Once she had her hair pulled back in braids and her outfit that always let her blend in well she wrapped that green cloth she had received from Gus her first night around her shoulders and face. She had been getting around this way for six months, not coming into any troubles. A part of her thought it was weird that no one ever asked her to take it off, but then another part of her figured it wasn’t strange for someone to hide their face the way that she did in this kind of society. Whatever kind of society that this was that is.

When she figured she was well prepared, a dagger in her boot, another dagger strapped in around her waist, she set off out the door of her small cabin. She had been given it by Gus with his wife’s permission about three months prior. She had stayed with them for a few weeks when he had found her, but eventually she knew when her presence would be a burden. Gus had found her sleeping on the ground next to a fire one night when he decided to lend her the small cabin. She pays him in game and things she thief’s from other villages and blind travelers. He always calls her talented when she knew really she was just a thief.

Nights when the three of them – Gus, his wife Nona, and Lexa – sat down for dinner, Gus would tell her stories of Leksa kom Trikru. _Commander of peace_. Lexa would never admit to the small smile she’d give in return every time Gus used the phrase. Lexa smiled for no one, though she had a nagging feeling that there may be one person worthy of her grin.

Gus didn’t know much about Lexa personally, but her legend stands strong in him. His son had died fighting for her, and though the married pair always got sad when he came up, they couldn’t seem prouder that it was under her as heda. Lexa enjoyed every story, even if she knew some of them were embellished and exaggerated. She just liked the way Gus’s face lit up with every story and detail. She liked the way Nona would stare at him with love as he did so. Looking at the two always made Lexa hopeful.

She had even forgotten that Leksa kom Trikru was her, her before her memories were gone. His stories always seemed like that, just stories. There was no way such a person existed, it was even more impossible for it to have been her that did all of these things. Sometimes she was glad she didn’t remember, because the pressure that must be held over Leksa’s head – even in her death – seems to be too harsh.

Lexa filtered amongst the early morning crowd quickly, finding her way to the back of Gus’s shop. She never entered through the front door, especially because she was a thief and traded in private with fear of being caught. Lexa wasn’t sure of the punishment now for thieves since the new heda, but she remembers Gus describing in detail what the old laws used to be. She had no intention of finding out if those were still in place.

 _“Good morning Lex, come for breakfast?”_ Nona had on her normal comfortable smile. Blonde hair bundled up in a tight bun, long blue gown strapped to her nicely. Her watery dark blue eyes even glittered a little in the morning sun. She was always at ease, an in turn it always put Lexa at ease. Another thing she’d never admit to if asked.

 _“Yes, and to speak with Gus about something urgent.”_ Maybe it wasn’t urgent so to speak, but Lexa wanted to get the discussion out of the way so it wasn’t tainting the rest of her day. She needed to know if she’d be stocking up and thieving things for a trip to Polis alone, or if Gus would be willing to save her from crimes and help her out yet again.

Nona raised one of her perfectly sculpted brows up in interest. She was always curious, and Lexa couldn’t help but find this trait to be quite appealing. _“What could be so urgent?”_ Nona was already scooping up a plate in her delicate fingers, and placing food on it. Probably ham and some eggs, maybe even toast if Lexa was lucky. She peeked over to see as Nona scooped.

 _“Just about a trip Nona, nothing to outrageous.”_ Lexa assured, stomach growling slightly as her eyes devoured the food on the plate. She had never taken food for granted since she opened her eyes, starving in those woods. It was almost like she hadn’t eaten in weeks, and she never wanted to experience that kind of feeling again.

Nona smirked playfully at Lexa as she held the plate out toward her. _“Take that ridiculous sash off your face Lexa. Eat your food.”_ She teased lightly, silently basking in the little happiness she causes to flicker through the young girl’s lovely green eyes. She did this often, brought joy to the young girl and a part of her felt as if she was paying the Commander back for leading them all those years. She had been so young when she took the throne, and people had expected so much of her. Nona didn’t doubt that she had many people caring for her, or even realizing she was young.

Nona thought the commander losing her memory must be a blessing on the poor soul because she can finally get some peace in that head of hers. _“Thank you, Nona.”_ The girl muttered in gratitude, taking her seat on one of the barstools at the table. She removed the sash from her face quickly, folding it up neatly next to her plate before devouring her food. Nona only laughs affectionately at the way she eats. She saw so much of her son in Lexa, but it was never painful.

 _“Ah! My favorite Gada!”_ Gus yelled heavily stomping his way down the stairs and holding his belly as he did so. Lexa would deny that she grinned at the sight. His sash was also missing, and long greasy brown hair could be seen on his head, long enough to touch his shoulders. He sported warrior braids, even though he was only a small shop owner. Lexa often mused that it was because he was a warrior at heart.

 _“Hey,”_ Nona feigned jealousy, though both Lexa and Gus knew she was full of it. There was no one Gus loved more than Nona, and that was easy to see in the way his soft brown gaze landed on her and crinkled in the morning light.

 _“Don’t be jealous beautiful, you know I live for no one but you.”_ Lexa rolled her eyes and focused her gaze back down on her food that was now nearly gone. She didn’t watch as the big man planted a smooch on his wife before making himself a plate and sitting down across from Lexa at the table.

 _“Lex says she has something urgent to discuss with you.”_ The woman muttered out still holding an amused smile in place. _“Nothing outrageous though.”_ She further teases, tossing Lexa an affection smile. Lexa will deny that she returned it.

 _“Oh is that so Gada?”_ Gus chuckled lightly, eating pieces of his food much slower than Lexa had, whose plate had already been whipped clean. Nona took it from her and began to wash away any remains stuck to the dish.

 _“I was wondering if you would accompany me on a trip to Polis in the near future.”_ Her tone was confident and indifferent, but deep down she prayed he’d say yes. For some reason she wanted to have him around, almost as if he was some kind of force that kept her stable and on the ground at a time like this. She wanted to face Polis and Clarke and figure out her place now, but she couldn’t imagine doing any of it without him. He had become kind of her rock in these last months.

 _“Ah! You finally want to go and see what it’s all about huh?”_ He chuckled again, as he often did after he said something. He grabbed another piece of toast, placing egg on it before sloppily shoving it in his mouth.

Lexa hesitated, watching him, debating if she should divulge the information of Clarke that she had learned, or if she should keep such a subject to herself. After a moment, she had made her decision on the matter and was speaking evenly. _“Yes, I’d like to go to Polis and see if I am able to remember anything.”_ She placed her hands on the table entwining them together as she casually stared at Gus while he ate.

Of course, he was more than happy to just be living; the permanent smirk on his lips was only proof of such a thing. _“I’d be honored to accompany you on your journey to find yourself young gada.”_ His voice was gruff and sweet, and Lexa found comfort in it, visibly relaxing at his reply.

 _“I would like to join you.”_ Nona added gently, taking a seat on the stool next to Lexa. Her eyes were sweet as Lexa looked upon them in surprise, and something warm flushed through her at that moment making her smile at Nona so gently that it had the older woman tearing up. _“I want to help you as best I can Lex. And besides, who else is gonna keep you both fed, eh?”_ Her light tone brought a laugh to both of them, and they spent the rest of breakfast calmly planning a trip and discussing things Lexa would probably love about Polis.

 

…

 

“Heda, the amount of thieving in the villages has increased massively in the last three months.” She was being chased. Of course she was. She never got a moments peace in this god forsaken place. Clarke sighed heavily, placing two fingers in the middle of her temple and massaged lightly.

She kept her gaze shut as she responded, the irritation almost visible in her tone. “What do you suggest then? We’ve been over this time and time again, the old laws were extreme. You can’t expect me to let you kill every thief you find.” When she did open her gaze to meet that of the young ambassador across from her as she sat at her throne, he seemed to shrink a little.

Clarke didn’t show it, but the excitement that her looks were finally working spiked through her. “Perhaps you should start handling them at a face to face level heda.” He muttered shyly, placing is gaze on the ground rather than on her.

 _“I am heda, I do not have time to handle every thief you come across face to face.”_ The ambassadors weren’t completely used to Clarke speaking trigedasleng unless she was serious. Well, Clarke was always serious, but when she used their language it seemed to only add to the affect.

The ambassador straightened his posture and met the blue eyed gaze of the commander once again. Clarke admired his stubbornness. “Perhaps only the skilled ones? They seem to encourage thieving as a hobby, heda. If we are able to capture them, and show punishment for their crimes perhaps it will scare the other thieves off. That is why there is no thieves in Polis, heda.” His confidence waivered as Clarke stood from her throne, towering over him do to the fact that platform was some inches above regular ground.

“Is this like a thieves guild? There are leaders and such?” Clarke asked curiously stepping down from her platform to pace the length of the room.

The ambassador watched her a moment. “I am not sure heda, but some thieves that are skilled have been discussed, and we assume their talent is what is encouraging the less skilled to try.” The ambassador stood straighter, and Clarke wasn’t completely sure how that was possible, since he already seemed to almost be standing on the tips of his toes. He crossed his arms behind his back, but still looked as Clarke as if he was slightly frightened.

Clarke loved it. She loved that she seemed powerful because for a while she had always seemed like the bud to everyone’s jokes. Now they dare not laugh. She wasn’t just Wanheda anymore. “Very well, are there any descriptions of these well-known thieves? Do they have specific locations they target?” Clarke came to stand across from the ambassador, making him look small even though he was a few inches taller than her.

“Yes, there is some information. But there is a new thief in the outer villages that people call the green fury, I am not sure why. It’s been said she’s been encouraging thieving. I think our main focus should be finding her to stop this from spreading further and becoming a bigger problem.” His eyes didn’t leave Clarke’s, and she could see fear in them as she gazed at him. It almost made her want to laugh. Clarke didn’t feel like she was something to be afraid of. But this man did, and even though Clarke had become hard in her resolve these past months, she still had a soft spot for green eyes.

“You can relax ambassador.” She let a grin stretch along her delicate pink lips. “I’m not going to slit your throat for speaking your mind.” She released a low chuckle as the man let out a sigh, his shoulders rolling back as he did so. He was still on edge, but she liked this version of him much better. “Do you have any information on this green fury other than she is female and terrorizes outer villages?” Clarke asks gently, a small smile gracing her lips as he releases the clasp of his arms from behind him and lets them fall to his sides.

“She’s predicted to live somewhere near River Valley and Westerdon. But no one is certain. She’s a shadow mostly. If we could investigate these locations, maybe we could catch her in the act.” He released another breath as Clarke took a step back from him and began to pace again.

Clarke chuckled. “You expect to catch a shadow?” Clarke shook her head. “Very well,” She stopped in front of the boy again. “I want you to speak to Indra and Octavia about formulating a kru and taking them down to these locations. They’ve been rather bored with nothing to hit these past months. I want you to do this for other “skilled” thieves as well. Make it clear to them that when you catch one you do not kill them. You will bring them to Polis and they will be handled with a trial and a sentence as we have done with all other crimes.” Clarke stepped away from the ambassador whose green eyed gaze had landed on the ground now, listening. “I don’t want to be bothered with this again…” Clarke bites her lip. “Except for green fury, bring her to me.” The ambassador nodded in understanding. “A shadow…” She chuckled. “We’ll see about that huh?” Clarke shook her head and looked the boy up and down again. “Tell them that heda sent you and this is upon her request, you’re dismissed.” She waves her hand and heads back toward her throne as the boy nods and quickly exits the room.

When Clarke had flopped down once again in her seat, a guard standing next to her gave her an amused grin. His name was Derek, and he had a sense of humor that Clarke enjoyed about him. It made being heda a lot easier when she had someone to laugh with. “Remember when our problems were much larger then petty thieves in outer villages.”

“I don’t understand why thieves are such a big deal. They aren’t killing anyone. Most of them are just surviving.” Clarke rested her head in her hand as she looked out at the rest of the room. The thought of a walk crossing her mind as she gazed upon things she had seen every day for the last six months.

“Perhaps that’s what we all are doing, with no war to be seen.” Derek raised an eyebrow in her direction and she took in his words a moment, considering the fact that peace may not be something that everyone actually wants. She hopes that most do, and that the peace remains.

“We all deserve this peace Derek.” She answers gently. “I’d rather have a billion boring days, then have one day of war ever again.” Lexa’s eyes flashed through Clarke’s mind again, as they did thousands of times a day and her mood suddenly plummeted. She was still working on the part where she doesn’t get depressed every time she thinks of not having her here.

“I understand heda, but some do not. It is why thieves are being hunted now. Some of the army is restless, some dangerous. Some are not soldier material.” Derek was warning her about something, she knew of this. The brutality had been brought to her attention a few weeks ago and she had already been taking steps toward solving the matter.

“I am working on that to I assure you Derek. I haven’t forgotten.” She responds, her tone hard and domineering.

“I do not mean to anger you heda. I just do not want you to blame yourself for the mistakes of others.” Derek replies gently, his eyes softening as they meet Clarke’s blue gaze.

She released a small breath and nodded her head briskly. She stood without speaking another word to Derek and made her way to the balcony she often cried on. She didn’t feel as if she’d cry now, she just needed a break, a breath of fresh air to relieve some stress.

As soon as the breeze hit her she felt herself relax. She gripped onto the railing as soon as she reached it, her knuckles turning white at the tight grasp. Her eyes glazed over Polis taking in small figures as they walked. She wondered what each person was thinking, what home they lived in, what family they had. She wondered who had lost people they had loved to the wars beforehand, who hated that she was heda.

She wondered if she even deserved to be heda.

Clarke sighed again. She let her eyes wander from Polis and its people to look out amongst trees. She enjoyed the way it looked as if at some point the trees became the sky. She let her eyes glaze over fluffy clouds and the morning sunlight that peeked from them, admired it, and thought she would maybe even paint it. She could imagine how that painting would come out. But now that she thought about it, she knew she wouldn’t paint it.

Every time she tried to paint she saw Lexa, and green eyes, and pain. Every time she tried to paint or draw or sketch she saw death and beauty turn to torture. She couldn’t paint; she couldn’t draw, even though she so desperately wanted to do all of these things. She could do neither because they were triggers, triggers that sent her into fits of sadness and depression for weeks.

As Heda, she had no time to be sad for long periods of time. Though most of her days were clouded by pain, she had no time to acknowledge that pain. She was leading thousands of people. She had duties every day, problems to solve, voices to hear. She had an image to uphold. But Clarke could take breaks. Breaks to appreciate the life she had created after all that has happened.

Clarke would take a break now, and she’d go see Raven and her mother. She’d greet her new baby brother, which Kane named after her father. He had probably grown so much since the last time she had seen him. Yes, she’d take a break soon. Go to Arkadia and visit her friends and family that didn’t reside in Polis currently. She could use a breath and a bit of happiness for a little while. Clarke exited the balcony with a soft smile on her face at the thought.

 

…

 

Lexa adjusted her cloth around her face after she had swung herself up on one of the horses Gus had rented. He had rented three, two to pull the carriage and one for Lexa to ride along beside because he knows how restless she gets sitting still, mushed together with others. Her horse’s name was Lake, and Lexa found that appealing since his eyes were the murky color of that body of water. She warmed to him quickly and he to her.

She didn’t thief anything for the trip with Gus’s help, and she felt pride swell in her going an entire week without breaking a law. She had attracted attention apparently; two sets of guards had already taken post outside of River Valley and Westerdon, the bigger villages she thieves from the most. Laying low seemed to be working however, because she overheard some of the guards talking about wasting their time, and heading back to Polis to tell heda the green fury wasn’t around.

 _The green fury_ … now who had come up with such a silly name and why were they calling her it? It’s not like she caused any commotion to deserve the title _fury_. She wasn’t violent, and the poorest people she took from were travelers walking alone on the road between villages. She wasn’t terrorizing anyone, even if she was breaking some laws. She did it for survival mostly. Hunting alone wasn’t going to keep her alive, and there wasn’t any way she could actively participate in a job around the community when she sported the former heda’s face.

She did what she needed too. That was all.

 _“You ready Lex?”_ Gus called beside her as she adjusted herself in the saddle. Lake gave an anticipated whine that caused Lexa to pat his neck before meeting Gus’s eyes and nodding.

Nona squealed beside Gus excitedly. _“I haven’t been to Polis since Eric was little.”_ Gus only smiled at her, appreciating her excitement before he hit the rains to get the horses moving. Lexa settled in a steady trot beside them, watching for people and anyone else that might try to take advantage of a party of travelers.

The ride out of the village was easy, though they stopped many times for Gus and Nona to make friendly conversation with others. The village was small enough that everyone was friends; though Lexa remained silent they had all seen her pretty eyes around the villages enough to acknowledge and accept her place. Plus she brought the sick, medicine most of the time, when she thieves it from the bigger villages and that was always greatly appreciated. So many lives always ended too soon because they could not afford proper care for health conditions.

They finally exited the village around noon, but Lexa didn’t mind. She was in no rush to reach Polis. She had time, plenty of it. Everyone was at peace; there was no war to worry about. Lexa’s face was still unknown, and no one knew she was green fury so she didn’t have to hide more than she already is. Plus, the longer she took to get to Polis the longer she could pretend she isn’t someone utterly important to these people. As honoring as it was to be remembered as the commander of peace, it was also a burden, and since Lexa was sure her memories may never come back. If this was the case, she’d never be Leksa kom Trikru, and she’s sure no one would understand that.

 _Clarke…_ Her brain reminded her. Clarke was key to something, something rather important that Lexa couldn’t name. She couldn’t understand why she was so sure Clarke could help her. Clarke may be someone Leksa knew, maybe even loved, but things could be so different. She’s been greeted with three memories; what if the last time Clarke had spoken to Leksa it was on terrible terms? What if Clarke now loathes her?

Lexa shook her head at her own thoughts. Clarke was her only hope at this point, and thinking this way would only diminish progress. She had to believe that Clarke was someone who would remember her and help her once she saw her… Getting to Clarke however would be an entirely different story. Getting to Polis is easy, but Clarke was heda, and heda was protected. Lexa was sneaky, a thief in recent days, but she wasn’t that sneaky. After all, she already had a title as a thief, and they knew of her target spots to steal. There isn’t any way Clarke could sneak into Clarke’s home, and even if she could what would Clarke do if she saw a stranger standing in the middle of her room.

Lexa sighed now; she still had so much to think about. She’d probably have to stay in Polis longer than Gus and Nona, but at least they’d be there to help her settle. Stealing in Polis would be much harder, so that’s why Lexa prepared for staying a longer bout of time so she wouldn’t have to take that risk of being caught. Lexa realizes that Polis, being the capital, probably has tighter security then anywhere she’s ever been. Stealing there wouldn’t be an option but a death wish.

 _“Look ahead Lex, seems our paths are crossing guards.”_ Gus warned gently beside her, snapping her out of her thoughts. She allowed green eyes to examine the patrol galloping up the road toward them, but she was not afraid. Fear was for the weak, and Lexa was anything but weak.

 _“I suggest we keep moving unless they ask that we stop.”_ Lexa muttered a reply, pulling her horse’s trot to a slow walk so she was hovering behind the carriage, making room to pass the patrol on the road. She did grow nervous getting closer, though her appearance wasn’t enough to conclude that she was in fact, green fury. However, someone must have seen her once to come up with such a name. The color couldn’t be a coincidence.

 _“Excuse me sir, may we speak with you a moment.”_ The carriage had slowed to a stop, and once Lexa heard the guard speaking she reared her horse forward to stop near the front of the carriage. She watched the patrol that was talking with curious eyes, and stared down the other guard who was looking at her rather intently.

 _“Sure, what can I do for you on this fine afternoon?”_ Gus was naturally friendly, it was in his nature to be loud and boisterous and nice. His response was normal for that of someone who means well. The guard’s response was to stiffen, straighten his posture on his horse, and he was suddenly looking down upon Gus as if he owned him. This set off alarm bells in Lexa’s head, and before she knew it she was doing the same stance, suddenly growing possessive of the people on the carriage.

The silent guard watched her to intently, cocked his head as her stance changed. She wanted to send the dagger that was dug in her boot flying at his neck. “I’d like you to step down from the carriage please sir.” The English really set Lexa off. How dare he suddenly act this way with no reason to.

“Why?” Lexa spoke from her place on the horse. The silent patrol guard that had been beside the other now cocked his head in the other direction, his eyes showing surprise and interest as Lexa spoke. The other patrol turned his head toward the green cloth covered girl and examined her as if she were petty and nothing.

“Do you dare question a guard of Polis _gada_?” Lexa didn’t like the way he said girl versus Gus calling her girl. It set her teeth on edge, and she had already loosened herself enough to make her daggers available to her in the off chance that she’d suddenly need one.

“What right do you have to look upon a traveler and demand he step down from his belongings? He has done nothing to disturb you.” Lexa’s tone was even and leveled, she sounded more like the commander then she was really used to. Muscle memory again she supposed. Talking this way, having posture like this, looking upon another like this came naturally all of the sudden, like she’s been doing it forever. No memories flashed through her mind, but man did it feel right to act this way.

The guard swept his glance once over the girl again before resting back on Gus. He looked as if he made to speak, but Gus started up before he could. _“It’s okay Lex, it’s okay. I will step down.”_ Even as this guard looked upon him in a threatening manner, he refused to speak English… Lexa wondered if he had ever even used English. Gus steadied himself and stepped down from the carriage. He was much bigger than the guard who questioned him, but the other, which continued to examine Lexa, was about his size.

“State your name and those of whom you travel with.” The guard stared down at Gus from his place on his horse. Lexa found it disrespectful for him to remain on his horse while Gus could not. She was growing angry, her temper visibly flaring as she played with the rains around her horse, who whined at her in protest.

 _“Gustan kom Trikru. This is my wife Nona and my daughter Lex.”_ Of course Lexa knew why he was lying, but it still touched her enough to cause her to relax on the rains.

The guard studied him, looked up to his wife and then back at him before glancing upon Lexa again. “Why are you traveling?” The guard asked, still in English, as if he needed to use it now. Lexa’s dislike for him continued to grow, as it also did for the guy that couldn’t seem to stop staring at her.

 _“We are heading on a trip to Polis to trade and see the capital again. My daughter has never been, you know.”_ Gus replied, his eyes light and filled with happiness. How did he manage to do this? Lexa grew more on guard and more angered as this conversation went, and yet Gus managed to maintain his permanent smirk. It was almost as if he didn’t notice the amount of tension growing between the patrol men and Lexa.

 _“Lex, after Lexa?”_ The silent guard finally spoke, his eyes still examining Lexa, holding his stare on her. It had not left her once. Finally Lexa meets his eyes and holds his gaze, narrowing her own in an intimidating stare. This worked only a little, a small flutter of fear flashed through him before it was replaced with indifference and curiosity.

 _“No, but we do celebrate that name in my house.”_ Gus muttered strongly, his tone remained light but something underlined it. Something defensive and if Lexa could hear it, so could the guards.

“I need to ask if you’ve been aware of any thieves in or around your village.” The English speaking guard had asked. Lexa didn’t relax, but part of her wondered if he was perhaps skaikru, if he could not hold a conversation in trigedasleng by now. Shouldn’t every warrior of Polis be required to be fluent in trigedasleng by now? Was heda not making that a requirement?

Lexa internally sighed. Of course she wouldn’t, she is skaikru. Perhaps she is mixing cultures; perhaps she is trying to make English peaceful as well… She must know that, that is not going to work. Especially if outer villages do not know her intentions, to faraway from Polis to receive any information she gives correctly. “Thieves? I can’t say that I’m aware of any in my village.” Gus answer calmly, collected. He remained the same; no trace of a lie could be seen. But this skaikru guard was not convinced and he motioned to the guard next to him.

Lexa didn’t know what that meant, but she knew it wasn’t good. She had already gripped the dagger at her waist and had silently pulled it so it was steady in her hand but unnoticed by the two patrols before them. The big guy had jumped from his horse as well and made his way to Gus who only grinned at him calmly. “I’m going to ask you again, and if you do not answer truthfully I’ll be forced to end your life.” Lexa felt something boil inside of her at this and her voice had escaped her before she could rain it in.

“You will do no such thing.” She was loud; the attention was now on her. Gus looked fearful, but he tried his best to remain calm. Lexa wouldn’t allow him to be put in unnecessary danger. After all, he wouldn’t be on this trip, experiencing this, if she hadn’t been thieving in the first place, if she hadn’t wanted a trip to Polis in the first place.

“Excuse me, but you should step down from your horse. You’re only going to make this worse for your father.” Lexa did step down from her horse; she more like swung down from her horse. Her posture was straight, she was threatening, whether or not she was shorter than both of the guards, she still looked frightening. Her face was covered by cloth; the only thing that could be seen is her deadly gaze. Her dagger was ready. One more move and she have the two dead so fast.

“Gada stay calm. Step back.” Gus muttered out, English escaping him for the first time. It clenched Lexa’s heart, and she wouldn’t watch this happen. She couldn’t watch this happen.

“Take that cloth off.” The bigger mostly silent guard beside the skaikru one demanded, his eyes examining it curiously. Lexa met his gaze; she stayed still, denying his request.

“Gus,” Nona had appeared beside him now, the skaikru guard barely paid her any attention as a malicious look crossed his features. Something about this excited him, and it sickened Lexa to the core. However this would end, it wouldn’t be pretty. But Lexa was determined to defend Gus and Nona with her life.

“Relax on the girl,” the skaikru guard watched Gus with hate in his eyes. “Focus on the lying big guy huh?” He grinned maliciously and Lexa took a threatening step forward. “Now, let me ask you one more time, do you know of any thieves in or around your village sir?” The bigger guard had pulled his sword out, and Lexa was already thinking of the best path toward his neck.

“I have heard you all are on the lookout, but I assure you I am not lying when I say I am unaware of thieves in my village. If I were, do you think I’d withhold that information as a small shop owner? Thieves are a nuisance. I encourage that you catch them.” The skaikru guard lost his malicious grin and turned his back to Gus, who held his stance well even though fear was in his eyes. Nona was beside him, not speaking a word, but touching his hand for support. Not only for him but herself as well.

The big guard had played with his sword a little, had even stepped away from the conversation to do so. Almost as if he was just there to taunt and scare. Lexa figured these assholes really had nothing better to do. But as her eyes wandered around their location and surroundings she noticed that these two guards had back up in the trees. Maybe they weren’t guards at all. Maybe they were the thieves… a whole group of them. But regardless of that thought, these guards held the sacred symbol on their armor. The same one that Lexa sported on the back of her neck. Apparently it had become the symbol entrusted to the armies, even though the city for which it stood for had been destroyed. Gus had informed her of all of this one night when she asked why and how Clarke had become heda. This symbol being encrust upon the armor of the armies was to new for any thieves. So why were these guards harassing them?

“Take off your cloth girl.” The big guy had asked again. His eyes examined her looking into the trees where other soldiers were standing guard. She met his eyes so quickly, his stance faltered slightly. He recovered fast, giving her the same intimidating gaze back.

“I will not.” She replied strongly. She moved slightly to look at Gus who was staring at the big guy’s swords and then she looked at Nona who was staring at the skaikru guard who still had his back to them, not saying a word. Lexa was worried. Gus could probably fight, and she had no doubt Nona could as well. But even with them all on guard and prepared they are outnumbered. If these guards wanted to be brutal they could, there was no way out of this situation. Unless she could deter them away.

Lexa stepped closer to Gus and muttered quickly. _“Let me distract them.”_

Gus turned his gaze to her briefly before focusing back on the man with the sword. _“Not a chance gada.”_ He replied huskily, whispering back.

_“Gus let me do this for you. Polis is for me, I will not put you in anymore danger…”_

_“Nonsense,”_ He spoke up a little louder but not enough to attract more attention to them. _“I won’t let you do that. You will go to Polis, and you will find out what happened to you.”_ He reached in his pocket and grabbed out something, taking Lexa’s hand that didn’t hold a hidden dagger and placed it into her palm. _“When you get there, tell them you have something for heda and show them that. It belonged to Clarke’s father, she will want it back.”_ Lexa gave him a brisk nod and clasped the tight medal, shoving it into a pocket strap on her dark pants.

“Gustan, come here.” The man with the sword asked. And Gus did, he took a step forward away from Nona and Lexa. He was cautious and afraid but he held himself well, never backing down as the man with the sword got closer to him. Nona and Lexa watched, Lexa formulating a plan.

But then the skaikru guard grabbed Nona and had sunk a blade into her heart, causing a chain reaction of Gus to throw his very own blade at the skaikru guard who had done this. The big guy with the sword then swung, but Lexa had released her own dagger to hit his throat before the sword was completely brought down, throwing off his aim and injuring Gus’s shoulder. Lexa sped her way to Gus fast, hoping to get him to cover, but before she could a spear hit his gut and she ducked to the ground as Gus fell with a thud.

She wanted to cry, but she didn’t.

Six months she had stayed with these people, six months they had cared for her and loved her as if they had known her, her whole life. And she is the reason that they die. Lexa suddenly wished she had never awoken in those woods, had never met Gus on that road. They’d still be alive and happy, at their shop in the village if it wasn’t for her. And then, all Lexa could see was red.

The other guards that had been in the trees were now making their way out, ready to fight. She stood after taking one of her daggers from the big guy’s neck, and the other out of her boot. She stared at them as they made their way to her. Things happened in a flash; she took out two guards and disarmed many others before she surrendered. When she was on her knees and the cloth had been taken from her face. Her features hard with anger she looked up at the one who was in charge of the group of brutal military and she muttered in cold English.

“Take me to your heda. I am the one you call green fury.”

 

…

 

Night had crept up on Clarke quickly. Her trip back to Polis had been slow and sluggish and when she had returned she had been told that three thieves were caught and were now standing trial. However, brutality amongst the military had grown, increasing in the smaller villages. This angered her, her actions never seeming enough. So she was already extremely stressed, sitting on her throne with her head in her hands when the door to the room slammed open.

A small boy rushed up to her, bowing before her and she managed to heavy a tired sigh. “Rise,” She managed out and the boy did so, but kept his gaze on the ground. “Speak, what is it?” She asked gently. He couldn’t have been much older than Aden was before he passed. She had a soft spot for anyone that reminded her of him.

“There are guards from the outer village. They have a woman with them, says she green fury, she looks like…” The boy trailed off, his voice excited as he meant Clarke’s eyes who was now watching him with interest.

“She looks like whom?” Clarke urged softly, her eyes examining him and the doors that were still wide open with curiosity.

 _“She looks like heda gon peace.”_ His eyes widened slightly at this. And in turn, Clarke was immediately alerted. People avoided talking about Lexa in front of Clarke, since it always made her tense and upset. But here this boy was, excited and telling Clarke there was someone in the world that resembled her.

Clarke knew he must be mistaken. Only one could have beauty as stunning as hers. “Very well, are they waiting outside?” Clarke asked remaining in her seat as the boy nodded seeming to get even more excited at this.

“Its incredible heda, she looks just like her, they could be twins!” His brown eyes are lighting up with every word he’s saying and Clarke, she would have found it adorable if they weren’t talking about Lexa. She would have laughed if her heart didn’t suddenly thud and send pain throughout her body. If her head didn’t spin with images of her face and thoughts of things she’d never gotten to say to the brunette. She would have found it cute, if she didn’t hurt so much.

“They could have been twins.” Clarke corrected gently, looking down at her hands. “Send them in.” She whispers, pain seeping its way into every inch of her, as it did every night she’d lay in Lexa’s bed and try and find sleep. _If only you were still here…_ Her thoughts carried off as heavy footsteps entered the room, and sounds of feet slightly dragging on the floor.

Clarke didn’t look up until she heard a thud, a sign someone was thrown on the ground. Clarke’s head snapped, examining the person that had fallen and by god the little she could see of her did look like Lexa, though her body was covered in dirt, her face hidden away by long brown tendrils of hair. Her figure seemed the same, her hair was the same. She looked vaguely like her; it triggered something in Clarke that no one has seen in her in a long time.

She shot up from her chair speaking quickly. “How dare you throw her on the ground like that!” Clarke snapped at the bigger guy who suddenly coward has heda advanced on him. “I asked you to bring green fury to me, not throw her. And look at her! She’s dirty, and you’ve got her tied up! When have I ever said you treat another human being like this?” Clarke shoved the bigger guy and he stumbled back surprised.

“I’m sorry heda, but she’s a prisoner and…”

“You dare question me? You dare speak above me!?” Clarke shouted now. She had no idea where all of this was coming from, but she was vaguely aware of eyes on her. Different eyes, not the ones she was used to. It only made Clarke’s anger grow, a feeling she hadn’t been accustomed too since growing rather numb after Lexa’s second death.

“No heda, I, I’m sorry heda.” The bigger guy was now looking down at his hands. “She surrendered heda and requested you.” Clarke was still angry; it seemed to only keep growing, even though she was aware the girl remained on the ground, watching her.

“You will be relieved from duty until further notice. You and your entire kru, do you understand? Report to Indra and tell her of this. I don’t want to see you in guard armor until I say so again.” She wasn’t shouting anymore, but her tone was dangerous and domineering. Everyone in the room shivered at it.

“Yes heda,” The guy kept his gaze to the ground, and even managed to look somewhat ashamed of himself.

“Leave now!” She shouted at them and they all tripped exiting the door. When they had finally gone and her normal guards had moved closer to help her she held her hands up. “I’ve got this, leave me.” She demanded, and they did so as well, stepping back and waiting, ready if she would need them.

Clarke’s blue gaze fell on the pair of green eyes staring at her. How long they had been staring at her Clarke had no idea. Her eyes were the same shade as Lexa’s, and it sent pain through Clarke’s entire body. She had never thought she’d see those eyes ever again… How was this even possible? Did Lexa have a twin somewhere out there she had never even known about?

Clarke knelt down, but the girl backed away from her, tied and gagged but still resistant… That reminded her of Lexa as well, and everything about this situation was starting to break her already broken heart more. _“I’m not going to hurt you.”_ Clarke whispered gently. Her eyes softening as she kept her gaze locked with the girl’s. The girl’s resolve seemed to dissipate a bit but she didn’t grow closer to Clarke. _“But you’re not afraid of that are you?”_ Clarke teased gently, a small smile gracing her lips, even though it pained her to even smile at all.

The girl’s green eyed gaze fell to Clarke’s lips and examined them for a long period of time, which had the blood rushing to Clarke’s head. Why did she look so much like Lexa? What kind of sick joke was the universe trying to play on her now? Clarke internally shook her thoughts off and advanced closer toward the girl again, reveling in the way she didn’t back away this time. _“Let me help,”_ Clarke whispered, close enough to her for her to hear it this way.

The girl sat up slightly, her eyes examining every crevice of Clarke’s face, and Clarke tried to hide the way it made her feel, but she was sure the blush rising to her cheeks was giving it away. She untied the gag from the girl’s mouth, pulling it off of her and watched as she hesitantly brought her hands to her mouth, wiping away the feel of the cloth that had subdued her. _“Let me get your hands.”_ Clarke urged gently, reaching for her wrists. The girl stiffened but didn’t pull away as Clarke untied the knot at the base of her wrists. Skin brushed skin slightly, and it was enough to make Clarke stop breathing a moment.

She was acting ridiculous. This obviously isn’t Lexa, even if she looked exactly like her. Lexa was dead. Her body died in her arms, and her spirit died with the City of Light. Each time was her fault. Lexa was dead, dead, dead. This girl couldn’t be Lexa, no one could be Lexa, because Lexa was dead.

Clarke gritted her teeth slightly but once the knot was gone, she threw the rope that had restrained the girl across the room and meant soft green eyes again. The gaze calmed down the sudden rage that had started boiling in Clarke once again. The gaze gentle and confused and dare she even say kind? Clarke couldn’t read what she was thinking, but almost jumped ten feet in the air when the girl’s hand reached out and brushed a strand of clean blonde hair.

Clarke didn’t jump that far, but she did fall back slightly at the sudden movement which caused the girl to recoil and fold her arms along her chest. “I’m sorry, I,” Clarke hadn’t stuttered to anyone in six months, and suddenly a girl is thrown on her floor that looks just like Lexa and she can barely speak let alone breath? She needs to get a grip. “I wasn’t expecting you to touch me, is all.” Clarke finally breathed out, standing and offering her hands to the girl on the ground.

The girl hesitated but took them and Clarke pulled her too her feet easy. She was as tall as Lexa, only a few inches above Clarke. But the girl seemed tired and hurt, making her appear much smaller in frame then Clarke had expected her too. Lexa would never show this kind of weakness in front of other people. Maybe in front of Clarke, but Clarke was not alone. This wasn’t Lexa.

The only way Clarke would survive this would be by reminding herself of that again and again the longer she spent in this girl’s presence… This girl, that looked just like Lexa. “Are you Clarke?” The girl’s voice was raspy, but it sounded just like Lexa’s and that fact sent a chill all through Clarke.

By god what kind of fresh hell is this? Clarke took in a calming breath before stepping back from the girl slightly. She couldn’t stay that close, she couldn’t… this was to hard… How could Clarke do this? Look into the eyes of a girl that looks just like her love? Listen to a girl that looks just like her love? Put a girl on trial that looks just like her love? She couldn’t do this… This is too much for her to handle.

“That’s commander or heda, to you actually.” Clarke says regally, but kept her tone soft and leveled to not scare the girl off. She also didn’t want her to see her inner turmoil currently taking place.

“I’m sorry I just… I think you can help me.” The girl shifted, looking down at the ground in a shy manner before appearing up at the blonde again. Clarke only stared at her questioningly for a moment, her brows knitted together in confusion as the brunette waited on a reply.

“What’s your name?” Clarke finally asks after a long moment of silence. The room wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t completely pleasant, and she wanted to somewhat change that. Maybe the looks of the girl was causing Clarke to internally panic but she didn’t need anyone else to see that.

The girl hesitated, as if afraid of her own name. Just when Clarke was going to ask again, gentler, the girl’s raspy voice rung through the air, dripping the name that Clarke had never thought would come from her lips. “Lexa…” It had come out soft and unsure, but the reaction for Clarke was instant.

She stepped away from the girl, shaking her head. The tears were down her cheeks before she could stop them and she turned her back on the girl. Clarke’s heart was pounding so hard that it hurt; the blood was in her ears. She couldn’t hear much of anything even as the guards were suddenly beside her, talking to her gently trying to understand themselves what was going on.

This had to be a dream. There wasn’t any way that, that girl was Lexa… Why would she say she’s Lexa? This doesn’t make any sense. Clarke wiped at her tears, furious with herself for showing weakness, before spinning around and brushing the guards off. She met that green eyed gaze again, and even though her heart softened at the look, she wouldn’t allow it to show as she spoke.

“That’s impossible, Lexa’s dead.” She said it so cold she almost shivered herself. The look of hurt crossed the girl’s features quickly, and she continued to stare at the blonde completely lost as to what that’s supposed to mean. There was no way that the real Lexa would forget her anyway… That can’t be possible… This all can’t be possible… _She isn’t Lexa, Lexa’s dead!_

“I… Please listen,” The girl pleaded, taking a daring step forward. Clarke remained in her place, but noticed how scared the girl got when the guards took a step forward with her, ready to defend Clarke against anything, even a girl that looks just like their former heda.

“I’m waiting on an explanation.” Clarke muttered out coldly, her blue eyes not leaving green ones. She had crossed her arms stubbornly along her chest, and was standing up straight like she had learned to do months ago to seem taller and more intimidating than she really is.

“I can’t give you one.” Lexa answered timidly. “I can’t remember anything.” She let out a breath, her eyes shooting nervously to the guards behind Clarke who stared at her coldly. Clarke noticed this and waved her arms in a gesture that made the guards back down.

“What do you mean you can’t remember anything?” Clarke asked, her voice losing that cold edge, though she very much wanted to keep resisting, she couldn’t. If this really was Lexa, she wasn’t about to push her away. And even if it isn’t Lexa, she still wouldn’t treat her wrongly, even for impersonating someone so brilliant that Clarke’s dreams are still haunted of her.

“I mean,” Lexa took in a deep breath, dropping her voice an octave as if wanting Clarke to be alone with her. It made Clarke shiver. “I can’t remember who I am, but I can remember your name, and your eyes.” Lexa instinctively reached out, she hadn’t been in control of her own hand as it touched Clarke’s face, the skin under her beautiful sky like eyes.

Clarke didn’t jump this time, surprised at the feel of her touch, at the way that her body suddenly craved it. After a moment, she took the girl’s hand from her face and placed it back at her side, meeting her soft gaze. “You remember me?” Clarke whispered, ashamed of how vulnerable that came out of her mouth. She suddenly realized how bad she wanted this to be Lexa, for this to be true. She felt shame wash over her, but she couldn’t stop herself from hoping. After months of feeling nothing, finally, she feels everything.

“I remember you.” Lexa answered shortly, her eyes never leaving Clarke’s.

For the first time in months, Clarke didn’t want to cry from sadness but from joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to note that I actually suck at action scenes and writing fighting, so I want to just apologize for not writing that as well as I could have. I did my best.
> 
> I'd also like to note that when Lexa says "I remember you" at the end of this chapter she doesn't mean "I remember everything let's run off into the sunset" okay... She just means, yes I remember you in a way that I know you are important to the life I once had. She still only has the three memories described. THIS IS SLOW BURN, her memories will come back slowly and most certainly not all at once.  
> This story is going to take a while, so I hope you sit back and enjoy the ride. :D
> 
> You should follow me on twitter if you haven't or don't already, and I have a tumblr, but I literally never use it.  
> Anyways my twitter is @eiizashannah
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I hope you'll be waiting for the next. I'm so happy you're liking it so far and I'm super excited I get to share this idea with you all.


	3. You have no idea.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke tries to come to terms with memory loss Lexa,  
> Indra and Octavia are unsure,  
> There's a light kiss in there somewhere, if you blink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back with the third chapter. It's actually super late for me while I post this but I wanted to get it out. The response to this fic has been honestly really great and you guys have been so nice. I'm really super happy that you guys are loving this story and I hope you like this chapter and continue to like this story up until it's end.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments and stuff. It's awesome, and I love I get to share this idea with you guys. <3
> 
> If you want to ask questions or talk to me or whatever my twitters @elizamejane
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, and will want another. :D

“You can’t be serious.” Indra’s voice raised an octave. She wasn’t as accepting of Clarke’s position as heda. Clarke never expected her to be. But Indra questioned Clarke far too often. It felt as if they spent an hour just circling the same conversation because Indra couldn’t stop challenging every one of Clarke’s actions.

It was aggravating, so aggravating in fact, that Clarke finally slammed the dagger that had been in her hands onto the wooden table in front of her and spun around to meet Indra’s eyes. Indra looked briefly intimidated, but she was quick at hiding such emotions. “I am and can be very serious Indra.” Clarke’s voice was cold and calculated. She played commander well, had learned too in the past months. She’s even almost mastered it. “She may not be Lexa but I refuse to sentence her to a public death. She’s being acquitted.”

Clarke stood up straighter as Indra advanced forward but Octavia stepped in and grabbed Indra’s arm. “The girl has no memory you say Clarke?” Octavia interrupts, keeping a casual distance between the two. “Is it possible that she is aware of her resemblance to the ex-commander and is somehow using that against you?” Octavia was leveled, keeping a careful eye on the two as tension rose.

It was never bad tension, but Indra didn’t like being forced to follow that of skaikru, even if that skaikru was Clarke, whom she trusted. Indra was now weary, aware of Clarke’s weakness for the former commander. She had not yet seen the girl, but she couldn’t believe that Clarke would be stupid enough to fall for such a thing. “I don’t see how she would know that, that would even work Octavia. Lexa and I…” Clarke trailed off, the name feeling comfortable and painful on her tongue. She hadn’t said it out loud in a long while. “Our relationship wasn’t known by many.” Clarke whispered out, the strength she had shown before had visibly evaporated.

“There have been stories though Clarke. How else do you think the others are so accepting of your position as heda? You’re rumored to be her lover Clarke.” Octavia took cautious steps toward her, seeing emotions on the blonde she hadn’t seen for a long, long time. “I’m not saying sentence her to death, that’s harsh. She’s obviously thieving for survival and you know that, but you can’t acquit her without doing so for the others as well.” Octavia placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder, her eyes shining with sympathy as the blonde met her gaze. “And we can’t acquit them all. Actions have to be taken, you know that.” She squeezed Clarke’s shoulder in a comforting way as Clarke’s gaze continued to hold her own.

“You don’t understand Octavia…” Her voice had hushed. Indra noticed this emotion, the weakness, the vulnerability Clarke often cherished when it came to Lexa. If Indra didn’t already respect Clarke, it would be hard for her to continue not to with the way that Clarke truly cared and loved her former commander.

“Explain it to us then Clarke.” Indra never addressed Clarke as heda unless in a room full of people. She supposed that Clarke preferred it this way.

“She looks just like her.” Clarke whispered out in her hushed tone even though they were alone in the room together. “She sounds just like her.” Clarke shook off Octavia’s hand and turned around toward the wooden table again. She gripped onto it rather harshly, staring at the dagger dug into the wood. “It feels like her.” Clarke whispered further, her back still to the other two. The emotion Clarke was visibly showing had never been as clear in these last six months then they are right now.

Octavia exchanged a look with Indra and they nodded in agreement. “Can we meet her Clarke? Maybe then we can decide what to do with her sentence.” Octavia offers gently, her hand meeting the middle of Clarke’s back as she comes up beside her.

Clarke releases a shaky breath. The pressure of the day was waning on her and her body. She was actually exhausted for the first time in months. She felt hope in her heart as much as she felt lost. She looked like Lexa, she breathed like Lexa, she spoke like Lexa… _But it wasn’t Lexa?_ Clarke was so confused. So lost in what this is all supposed to mean. She can imagine her now, sitting in the room she had sort of imprisoned her in. She can imagine two things going through her head.

That of a memory lost Lexa, trying to maneuver around the room to remember something, so that when Clarke came back she could convince her further that she really was the girl she speaks she is. The other was that of a girl that knew of her resemblance, and somehow she had gotten caught and somehow she knew of Clarke’s weakness for Lexa and she was using it against her. And she could be sitting in that room now debating on an escape, or some way to continue pretending she is Lexa until Clarke lets her go… Why is this happening now? After all these months, why now? How could life be so cruel? Hadn’t it been cold enough?

“Clarke,” Octavia whispered gently next to her, stepping even closer to her. Octavia had yearned for emotion from the blonde for months and now here it was. Pain and hope all simultaneously crossed those normally troubled features. She looked so young in this moment, so confused and hopeful and scared. Sometimes Octavia forgets that Clarke is only a year older than her.

“She’s in the tower, I… I have her guarded in a room.” Clarke looked to her right where Octavia was standing. “She looks so lost Octavia. I don’t think she’s lying.” Clarke wanted to believe she wasn’t lying, because if she wasn’t… if this really was Lexa… then she could have her back. She was getting a second chance, and she’s never gotten that before. She’s never been lucky enough to get such a thing, not in this life.

“Take us to meet her; we won’t march in with you. Warn her so we don’t overwhelm her.” Octavia encouraged keeping steady eye contact with the blonde. For once in a long, long time Clarke had hope in her eyes. More emotion then Octavia ever thought she would see again. She had been convinced compassionate Clarke no longer existed, at least not in the way she was used to. She was just getting used to cold hearted Clarke, who loved at a distance… But here was the old Clarke, crashing down in front of her. She feared that this Clarke would suddenly be ripped from them again with the realization that this girl was not Lexa. _It couldn’t be Lexa._

Lexa was dead, her body was burned. The AI chip that held her and all the past commanders had been destroyed in order to destroy the city of light. There was no way that Lexa could come back. This girl… She had to just closely resemble her, which was very possible. Octavia planned to thoroughly beat the shit out of her once she got her away from Clarke. No one takes advantage of Clarke’s love like this… Not after everything she’s been through.

“Okay, come.” Clarke pulled the dagger from the table, her vulnerable features being replaced by that hard exterior she had mastered in her months of being heda. Clarke straightened her posture again and gestured for Octavia and Indra to follow her out the door as she moved for it.

She didn’t look back at them as they exited, didn’t see the worried glances Indra and Octavia shared in concern of Clarke’s emotions. Clarke refused to notice such a thing because Clarke refused to be looked at as weak. Clarke was the commander now, Clarke was strong. Even though she often never felt it, she appeared it, and that was the only goal. She was leading these people, her people, Lexa’s people.

 

…

 

Lexa kept pacing the length of the room. She couldn’t help but do so. Something about the room made her uneasy, the idea of being locked inside and guards outside her door ordered there so she couldn’t leave. She felt trapped, she felt scared. There was so much running through her mind, like what Clarke was supposed to mean to her, what she means to Clarke.

She was so important to Clarke. The crack in her voice, the tears on her face, the hope in her eyes, she was so important to Clarke. In what way she was important, Lexa was still clueless about. Though her first reaction when she saw the blonde was to touch her, almost as if Lexa could hardly believe she was real. She was beautiful; her eyes were beautiful, better than the memory of them she had. Her first thoughts were blurred together as she just stared at her yelling at the guards that had brought her in. She couldn’t even hear what Clarke had been saying, overwhelmed with emotion, some fear and the beauty of the eyes that had been in her dream.

Something felt right, like it was just clicking into place when Clarke had finally looked down at her. The world felt as if it was finally complete for only a second, like everything would make sense again. Lexa didn’t know if that was crazy of her to think or not. She wasn’t aware of who she was to Clarke outside of the fact that she was somehow important to her. She wasn’t aware of anything, even though this place, this tower, held a certain familiarity to it.

The room calmed her, its surrounding lit candles soothing her worries. She liked the amount of candles in her room, encasing the place with warmth and light. After a while she found herself on the couch, playing with the flame on a blue candle as the sun had set and darkness had crept up on the outside. She thought continuously of Clarke and what she would do with her. Clarke seemed to believe her, but maybe she didn’t really…? What would happen with her life now? Did she mistake having hope in Clarke?

She sighed to herself, a gentle shake to her head as she ran two fingers back and forth through the little flame, not even flinching at its close proximity to her skin. She had to have hope in Clarke; it was all she had to remember who she was. She only knew what she was told, only knew of the stories Gus had embellished at the dinner table. And now, she didn’t even have those. Gus was dead, and she was still lost, and Clarke… Clarke was just as confusing as everything else, even though something in her felt right when in the same proximity as the blonde heda.

Why had those guards killed Gus and Nona? _Why?_ Why hadn’t Clarke done anything, does Clarke know of how disgusting her guards are? She seems so gentle, so strong with morals. If she knows, there isn’t any way that she isn’t trying to do something about it. Lexa released another annoyed huff. What right did she have to think that about Clarke? She didn’t remember Clarke which in turn caused her to not actually know Clarke. Even though a piece of her was screaming to trust Clarke, she couldn’t decipher it well enough to listen to it, which left her in a very awkward position while she was locked up in this room.

She needed Clarke, but trusting her was a different story. She wanted to trust her, but Clarke was young and the leader of so many. With the old ways of how a heda was chosen no longer in effect, it caused Lexa to be cautious of such a young leader. Not that the old ways were really much better, were they? Lexa just didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do. She was as lost as she was that first day in the woods. She was stuck here with a probable tragic fate as a thief and there wasn’t anything that she could do about it besides wait. Maybe Clarke would spare her life, but maybe that fate would have suited her better than the one that could become of her.

There were voices outside of her door, but she had grown used to the talking the guards did amongst themselves that she didn’t notice it was someone wanting in until the heavy door was being shoved open. Lexa immediately stood from her seat on the couch and rounded it. Her fate was coming, and she had to be ready for it. Clarke believed her, trusted her, and wanted to help her… or she didn’t. Lexa didn’t want to think about what she would do if Clarke didn’t believe her. Actually, if Clarke didn’t believe her, there isn’t anything she can do.

Clarke walked into the room confidently, spine straight, clean hair brushing back, eyes glancing around the room until they stopped on her, slowly taking her in. Lexa felt a little nervous under the scrutiny of the blue eyed girl’s stare, but at the same time, it felt nice to be acknowledged in the way that the blonde seemed to notice her. Unlike everyone else she had recently crossed paths with; Clarke stared at her in a way that no one ever looked at anyone. As if she is to be protected, as if she is special. It made Lexa feel warm, even with her nerves. It always served to confuse Lexa more; though she was sure she never wanted Clarke to look at her in any other way.

“I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting so long.” Clarke says gently, her eyes never leaving Lexa’s. Clarke looked at her so softly, so full of hope. And though Lexa was the one lost, Clarke looked as if she was too. Lexa itched to touch her, the urge as strong as the first time she had laid eyes on her. She wants to run her fingers through blonde hair, run the tips of her fingers along the curve of her cheek, the edge of her jaw. Lexa shook her head to distract her thoughts, unsure of why these feelings were so strong and powerful. She had never had the desire in the last six months to touch anyone, not in this way. She had to maintain herself in Clarke’s presence, she had to stop thinking this way or she wouldn’t be able to do such a thing. Clarke couldn’t see more weakness than she already has. Lexa had to be strong, even though she was utterly terrified.

“What is to become of me?” Lexa asked, the rasp to her voice that had been there the last time she spoke to Clarke had gone, which she was silently thankful for. She hated how vulnerable her voice had sounded, even though Clarke had looked just as vulnerable as she did. She wanted to appear brave and confident, that voice in the back of her head was telling her it’s what Clarke probably knows. She wants to be the Lexa that Clarke knows, even if that’s kind of a long shot in their current situation.

“You say your name is Lexa. You say you don’t remember, and I have friends in high places that are weary to what you speak.” Clarke moved into the room, closer to Lexa. Her voice was strong, and Lexa was sure that Clarke had thought the same things, had thought she wanted to appear well composed in front of her. But Clarke’s eyes betrayed her. They shone with care and hunger for something that Lexa could probably never name. They fought against her, though Lexa would be sure to never let Clarke know of that. The gaze that scrutinized every inch of Lexa, though made her squirm, made her also feel safe. It relaxed her worries because Clarke believed her, that look meant that Clarke had to believe her, and if Clarke believed her Clarke would help her… Clarke had to help her.

“I do not know of how I can convince them.” Lexa replied after a bout of silence that was not entirely uncomfortable. The guards had remained outside, so Clarke and Lexa were alone, and Lexa had never been more comfortable with another person then she was at this moment. Even with her nerves, even with her fear and worries, something about Clarke set her at ease. Something about the way that Clarke looked at her comforted her heart, and Lexa almost ached to touch her.

“I brought them with me to meet you… see you. Just…” Clarke moved to be directly in front of Lexa now. Maybe she had done so to intimidate her, but the air in the room shifted, and Clarke’s eyes were full of so much emotion that it made Lexa’s heart pound. This time Clarke reached out to touch Lexa, her fingers running along soft brown locks and brushing past her cheek and behind her ear. She stared at her own movements as if admiring the fact that she could even do this before meeting Lexa’s stunned gaze again.

Lexa couldn’t take her eyes off Clarke, didn’t even flinch as the girl’s fingers brushed her skin. The air had left her lungs, the touch resonating through her whole body. She was sure of it now, Clarke did believe her. And Lexa had never felt so much relief and so happy at any thought all of the sixth months since she had awoken. Clarke smelt clean despite the smudge of dirt under her right eye, and Lexa ached to touch the spot, to wipe it clean. She didn’t move as Clarke’s fingers moved through the brown strands of her hair until there was no more hair for Clarke to touch. When Clarke’s eyes were done following the movement of her fingers she met Lexa’s bright green gaze again and whispered. “Just be you.” Her voice had the vulnerable crack to it again, the significance of her feelings being worn on her sleeve. Lexa was suddenly weak for the passionate blue sky like eyes that gazed into her own and she found the urge to lean forward much stronger than that of to just touch her.

And maybe she would have with the way her heart was pounding and the way her lips were parting. Her mind melted away of confusion to just fill with Clarke. Maybe she would have leaned forward and captured the blonde’s lips if Clarke hadn’t taken a step back. She would have kissed her even with the knowledge that that would be a terrible idea. Lexa couldn’t even remember her, but the urge to hold the blonde, to touch her, to kiss her was overwhelming.

Clarke straightened herself again as if to appear taller, the vulnerability leaving her gaze. “Stay here,” she demanded authoritatively as Lexa also took a step back. Her heart was in her throat; her head was swimming with questions once again. One thing had suddenly become abundantly clear to her… Her body remembered far more than her mind and Clarke… Let’s just say Clarke is important to her too.

Clarke had exited out the big heavy double doors quickly, her steps shuffling together. Lexa watched her leave, wondered where she was going and how much longer she’d have to stay in this room with no food and water. She was growing hungry and just the thought of food caused her stomach to rumble before it clenched at the memory of Nona and her cooking, Nona who had died so suddenly and for no real reason at all. Lexa again allowed herself to shake the thoughts from her mind. Now wasn’t the time to mourn, now was the time to be focused. She had to stay alert and ready, on her toes for whatever was coming for her. She had little knowledge of anything surrounding her at the moment and that was scary. If she let her guard down, who knows what could happen.

The heavy doors were opening again, causing Lexa to stand up straight. She had begun to lean on the couch, but now she took about three paces away from it, wanting to look confident, like the Lexa that was. She washed emotion from her face to show no signs of weakness as a brunette that Lexa had no idea who was entered the room. She looked at Lexa in a way that made her uncomfortable. She wanted nothing more than to leave when the brunette’s gaze fell on her, but she couldn’t. This was obviously someone Clarke was talking about; she had to convince her, though Lexa knew nothing of how she could do that. Especially with someone who looked at her so menacingly.

The next person that walked into the door was a taller black lady, with a slight slouch but a strength that couldn’t be mistaken. The moment their eyes connected Lexa faltered, flashes almost like pictures fumbling through her brain and she suddenly had to lean back out for the couch. Her voice came heavy and clear in her head, “Indra,” it shouted, her tone worried but fond of the name. The woman that had walked through the door flashes in her head on the ground, possibly in pain. A pounding starts in Lexa’s temple and she doesn’t realize how harshly she’s gripping onto the back of the couch until the memory has faded and she can see again.

Clarke is beside her, hovering but not touching, not sure if she should touch. The menacing brunette no longer looked so menacing now, but curious, her head cocked to the right as she examined Lexa. The older lady… _Indra_ … she looked stunned. Her features were hard, but her eyes were roaming over Lexa as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Lexa couldn’t move her eyes anywhere else for a long bout of time, barely realizing that Clarke had asked her a question. _Indra…_ She heard her own panic stricken voice in her head again as she stared at the older lady. A sudden affection for her she hadn’t experienced invading her, different then in the way she had felt for Clarke when she first saw her.

“Are you alright?” Clarke had tried again, finally reaching Lexa’s ears. As if suddenly aware of Clarke’s proximity, Lexa jumped from her hold on the couch, trying to straighten herself, trying to find some type of composure. She met Clarke’s worried gaze and her heart clenched. She was where she’s supposed to be. She knows these people, these people know her. Now if she could just remember all of them.

“I’m sorry I…” Lexa trailed off, breaking her gaze with Clarke’s to find Indra’s again. Indra’s gaze wouldn’t connect with Lexa’s, just kept roaming over and over her body as if she couldn’t actually be standing there, couldn’t actually be real.

“Leksa?” Indra stepped close to her, something in her eyes that nobody in the room was very used to be seeing. She finally connected her gaze to Lexa’s and Lexa only nodded, the voice in her head muttering Indra’s name in different tones, as if playing the thousands of memories she has of her, only when she says her name with no images. It has Lexa weak as she reaches for the couch again and Indra steps ever closer to examine her face.

“Indra…?” Lexa asks softly, not wanting to alarm anyone. Her question light, as if maybe she’s got it right but isn’t sure. Her heart is pounding in an unpleasant way as all three eyes stay connected to her.

 _“You know my name?”_ Indra is emotional; you can hear it in the way her own voice cracks. She makes to reach for Lexa but then thinks better of it. _“How is this possible?”_ Indra demands, unable to speak English when she’s so upset. Lexa’s head shakes to her words, she has no answer. She doesn’t want them not to believe her, but she doesn’t know of a way to convince them that she is Lexa.

“Indra, she doesn’t remember. How is she supposed to answer that?” The menacing brunette adds. She reaches out for Indra and places a supportive hand on her arm, coaxing her back from Lexa. “If you don’t remember, how do you know Indra’s name?” Lexa let her eyes trial away from the older lady that still looked at her with disbelief and affection.

Her gaze met that of the brunette’s and she found herself standing up straight again. The look on the girl’s face was enough to make Lexa want to protect herself. “I get memories… sometimes.” Lexa answered her voice not as confident as she’d like it to be. “I haven’t had many. Just my name, Clarke’s name, and now Indra’s when I saw her.” Lexa allows her eyes to leave the brunette again. _“How do we know each other? We are close?”_ Lexa wants to know things of her life before. She wants the people she had been close to, to tell her of who she once was. Maybe their stories will trigger more memories and eventually she can be that person again.

Indra allows herself to actually smile and Lexa guesses that’s something that never really happens. _“We are.”_ She nods briskly before turning to Clarke whose eyes haven’t left Lexa’s face. “You are right Clarke,” at the sound of her name, the blonde has turned her head to meet the gaze of the older lady.

“I realize how much you two want to believe this. But I have my doubts.” The brunette turned to Lexa now. “You understand?” She took a step closer to her, but one that wasn’t meant to be intimidating. The brunette was curious, not menacing, and Lexa was feeling less threatened by her as time passed.

“I understand.” Lexa answered after a moment, her eyes leaving the brunette’s to find that of Clarke’s. She wanted the comfort that the blue eyed gaze brought, wanted her closer. Lexa felt weak, and somehow the thought of Clarke helped her feel strong. She wondered what she and Clarke’s relationship had truly been before. Had they been lovers, or had Lexa had unreciprocated feelings? Whatever it had been, Lexa knew that it was beyond friendship… It was romantic in some way because it was romantic now. And if it had been romantic, Lexa was going to have to be very careful with how she handled Clarke.

“Can we see the back of your neck Lexa?” Clarke was suddenly beside her again. Her name had been said so gently, so delicately that Lexa found herself gazing into the sky like eyes with almost the same emotion. She was nodding, agreeing before she really thought of what Clarke said, why Clarke would even want to see her neck.

Clarke’s hands shot out to hold Lexa’s back as she pulled a chair from behind her. Clarke stayed touching her, sliding her hand from her back and up her arms as she pushed brown locks out of the way of the back of her neck. Lexa shivered to every touch but remained stoic in appearance. Lexa had never wanted to touch someone so badly than she did Clarke, and it irked on her nerves that she had such a desire too. She couldn’t remember Clarke, not with her mind, not fully, and yet she wanted nothing more than to hold Clarke and touch her and have Clarke hold her as well. It was unsettling and irritating, and Lexa tried to hide her frustration as Clarke ran her fingers along the scar on the back of her neck. She didn’t know what the scar belonged to, she just knew she had one. She didn’t know why, she didn’t know what it stood for, but in this moment she was thankful for it because after Clarke was done showing it off she had reached her decision.

“This is Leksa kom trikru and I will protect her with my life.” Clarke answered out, to no one in particular, the universe maybe in the end. “Her crimes will be acquitted and she will stay here, in Polis, with me.” Lexa had shuffled her hair back into place, and turned in her chair to meet the eyes of the three before her. Indra’s gaze was still full of disbelief and affection. Clarke’s was staring at the two warriors, determined and hard and commanding… And the brunette, she stared at Lexa with disbelief herself now.

“How is this possible Clarke?” The girl asked, breaking her gaze away from Lexa. “She died Clarke, twice.” Clarke visibly hardened at this; she placed a hand on the chair that Lexa was sitting on and gripped it so tight you could see her knuckles turn white.

“But she isn’t dead. She’s here. And she will remain here, alive.” Clarke’s eyes met Indra’s. “Acquit Lexa, the green fury, of her crimes. Inform the guard to go about the normal process for the other thieves. Tomorrow we have a meeting about the brutality in the outer villages. It’s getting worse.” Clarke looked down at Lexa whose eyes had been examining and admiring her face the entire time. Just one look from Clarke’s sky like orbs sent Lexa’s heart back to pounding hard in her ribcage. “You two are dismissed.” Clarke mumbled out, not dropping her gaze for a few more moments until she realized that the warriors weren’t leaving. “Leave us,” Clarke muttered gently and the two exchanged a look before nodding to Clarke, sweeping Lexa with one last gaze, and leaving the room.

“Clarke…” Lexa muttered out gently, so gently… Almost like the times she’s heard it in her head, in her dreams when the memory of the blonde’s name surfaces. Clarke pull’s Lexa from her chair and sweeps her gaze over her slowly, admiring every inch, taking in every inch. Her breathing is uneven, Lexa can tell by the unsteady rise and fall of her chest. Her eyes are watery again as if she’s about to cry and her hands are trembling as they run through Lexa’s hair again.

“You’re real.” She whispers all too desperately, as if when she blinks Lexa will fade and disappear. A small tear escapes her right eye, the same eye that has the dirt under it and Lexa instinctively reaches up to wipe it away, her thumb brushing the skin under her eye much like it had the first time they had met. Clarke’s breathing seems to get worse. “You’re here.” She whispers, her eyes frantic to look at all of Lexa.

Lexa can feel her heart pounding; can hear it in her ears, her nerves on edge but different then from earlier. She wants to comfort the blonde but isn’t quite sure how, isn’t quite sure what she’s supposed to say. But seeing her cry hurts Lexa, and she isn’t aware of why this is so. Why did she seem to feel so strongly for the blonde whom she couldn’t even remember? Why did she find comfort in blue eyes that looked as if they were never comforted? Why did she long and ache to touch the skin of someone who looked as if they hated to be touched? Why did she feel this way?

“I am here.” Lexa says after a while, not sure if that’s what she should say, or if she should even talk at all. But then the blonde is cupping her face in her hand, and the tears are pouring out of her pretty blue eyes, and too Lexa it looks like the sky is crying, it looks like rain. And when the blonde pulls Lexa’s face down to meet her own, lips on hers, hungry and sad and mournful, Lexa doesn’t pull back or protest.

She’s not even completely shocked by it because Clarke had been eyeing her lips since they had met, because the feelings that Lexa has when she’s just in the same room as Clarke are purely romantic, because Lexa very much wanted to kiss Clarke as well, even though all she could remember of her was soft blue eyes and herself saying the blonde’s name so delicately.  Lexa’s hands weren’t even sure what to do with themselves, but they found the blonde’s hips and pulled her closer. Her lips responded but gently though the blonde’s kiss was consuming and hungry and desperate. But why wouldn’t it be? It was obvious to Lexa that they had been lovers, and that Clarke had thought her lover dead, but now here she was. She wasn’t dead. So Lexa let her have this moment, aware that they wouldn’t be doing this again probably until Lexa could regain her memories or enough of them to reciprocate the feelings Lexa felt Clarke pouring into her.

When the blonde finally parted from her, panting, tears still falling silently down her cheeks, she took a step back out of Lexa’s grasp. She didn’t speak until she caught her breathe, eyes on the ground as a blush surfaced onto her cheeks. Lexa found it cute, far too cute actually, and wanted very much to kiss the blonde again. “I’m sorry,” She whispered out, but there was lightness in her voice. Clarke wasn’t sorry for kissing her, she was sorry for kissing her while she doesn’t completely remember her. Lexa found that it wouldn’t be hard falling for Clarke, memories or not.

“Don’t be sorry.” Lexa hesitantly reached out for Clarke’s hand, but eventually took it and smiled when Clarke squeezed her fingers. “I take it you missed me?” Lexa tried to tease, tried to find something light hearted to say as if to not break the mood and somehow, she coaxed a pretty, small, but pretty smile from the blonde. Their eyes met once again.

“You have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did a kiss... But I just want to be clear that they won't be kissing much. It was a small kiss as well. They won't be kissing much while Lexa is so clueless and lacks so much memory. More kisses come later in the fic. Idk how much later, if it's a lot later, or a little later, but this kiss was just Clarke being overwhelmed with emotion at having Lexa back in her life.
> 
> I repeat again this is slow burn, so it's going to be mostly slow clexa interaction just because Lexa has to remember herself, remember Clarke, before they can really share those type of moments together. 
> 
> I hope you guys liked it. <3


	4. She's Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa learn to trust each other quickly,  
> Lexa remembers certin things and asks Clarke lots of questions,  
> Lexa tells Clarke of what happened to Gus and Nona,  
> Clarke is determined to protect Lexa no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I didn't update this sooner. I'm actually a senior in high school so I've been a little busy lately with projects. However, I wrote this all day to get it up. 
> 
> I hope you guys like this chapter. <3

Clarke never got much sleep. Most nights she managed to sleep it was restless and she’d wake screaming or trembling from a nightmare she’d never care to dwell on. Tonight was no different. Even with the comfort of Lexa in the room across the hall, tonight was as bad as any other. In fact, it was possibly worse because Lexa was here. She was alive. And if anything were to happen to Lexa now, Clarke wouldn’t survive it.

So that’s why she’s creeping along her corridor, not alarming her restless guards at the end of the hall as she crosses it to the Lexa’s door. The girl is probably asleep, and if not asleep, well, she’d understand why Clarke is checking on her. Clarke doesn’t need to make excuses. Lexa may not fully understand, and as far as Clarke knows she may never remember, but she understands enough to not be alarmed when Clarke steps a little too close.

It’s the first night. The first night that Lexa is alive and back in Polis and with her. The first night after so many nights that Clarke thought she was dead. It felt like a dream, and if she was dreaming, she might just jump the balcony right now. She couldn’t handle a joke such as this. She’d been hanging on by a thread since mount weather. That thread had thinned spectacularly with Lexa’s passing and even more so with the destruction of the city of light. She found reasons to live, not that any of them were ever very good, but still reasons.

Clarke glanced at the guards that remained stiff down the hall, just standing, silent and dark looking. She didn’t need to sneak around them, but she didn’t want them to insist on following her. She needed time alone, even if that was dangerous for a heda. The life of heda… of wanheda… of skaikru… of anyone on the ground is always dangerous. She can take care of herself. She’s been doing it for years now.

Clarke quietly shoves the door open, it creaks ever slightly as she tips it open. She just wants to make sure Lexa is still here, still alive, still breathing. She has to make sure she’s not dreaming, and to make sure she’s safe. Never again will she let Lexa die or be in danger of death. From this day on, if Lexa is hurt, so is Clarke… If Lexa dies, so does Clarke.

“Clarke?” Her voice is quiet; all of the candles in her room are still lit. She wonders if memory loss Lexa still loves candles just as much as Lexa had before her passing… No… She isn’t dead. She doesn’t need to call it that anymore.

“You’re still awake.” Clarke mumbles, sure of how late it is. Clarke often sleep four restless hours a night, she is up before the sun, training most mornings. She wonders briefly if memory loss Lexa also has restless sleep, if she has nightmares. She wonders a lot of things about Lexa now.

“I could say the same to you.” Lexa was on the floor, leaning against the end of her bed. She had a candles circling her, and a pile of things on the floor in front of her. Clarke couldn’t tell what they were or what Lexa was doing from where she was standing. She was just relieved to see Lexa in the room. She’d always be relieved to see Lexa, to realize this is _real_ and that Lexa is breathing the same air as her.

“I don’t sleep much.” Clarke adds gently, her eyes watching the brunette as green eyes shuffle up from the floor to meet her own.

“What are you doing here?” Lexa’s question isn’t offensive. It’s purely just a question, and it reminds Clarke so much of the way Lexa was before her supposed death. If she didn’t know what she knows, she’d assume Lexa remembered everything with the way she is able to phrase her sentences.

“I wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.” _Make sure you’re real._  

“I am okay Clarke. You can stop worrying about me.” One of Lexa’s signature smirks reserved only for Clarke graces the corner of her mouth, and it makes Clarke’s eyes water. She’s cried so much in front of Lexa already, she’s sure the brunette’s sick of it. But she never thought she’d see that smirk again, especially not directed toward her. She never thought she’d even get the chance to ever see Lexa again, but here she is. _She’s real._ “Do not cry again.” Lexa’s tone was light, a little teasing. She seemed somewhat amused, though she did appear a little tired.

Clarke shook her head and rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I won’t.” She whispered, her voice cracking and betraying her. When she looked at the brunette again, the girl was only smiling at her with affection and amusement. It made Clarke’s heart pound. How she wished Lexa could remember all of their shared secret smiles, smiles just like that one for only Clarke. Lexa would cry too if she could remember.

“Come sit,” Lexa patted a place next to her, moving slightly so Clarke could be a part of her circle of candles. It made Clarke give her a watery smile, though she hesitated.

“If you want to be alone it’s alright. I just wanted…”

“Come here Clarke.” Lexa said sternly, that amused smirk still on her pretty lips.

Clarke’s feet moved of their own accord and the next thing she knew she was sitting on the floor next to the woman she could hardly believe was real, the woman she loves. “What are you doing?” Clarke asked curiously, her eyes examining items on the floor in front of her.

“Trying to see if any of this will help me remember something. Some of the guards came by and gave me things they thought would help.” She touched a shoulder piece, one that either belonged to one of the nightbloods Lexa used to teach or young Lexa herself. Clarke didn’t know much about young Lexa, so she couldn’t be sure.

“No luck?” Clarke whispers, her voice sounding more desperate then she’d like it to be. She clears her throat in an attempt to sound more neutral.

“No.” Lexa let out a heavy sigh. “Some of it feels familiar, but that’s a lot different than remembering things. Everything here feels familiar, like it’s very important to me.” Lexa grazes her hand over a half-moon necklace on a silver chain. Clarke had never seen it before, and though she wanted to ask what it meant, she knew Lexa couldn’t tell her.

“It was important to you.” Clarke whispers gently, feeling sorrow take over her as she remembered Lexa. Not this Lexa, but the one before, who cared so much about her people, so much about others. Lexa, who hid behind a mask of indifference, though she had the kindest soul that Clarke had ever met.

“Can you tell me some things, Clarke… if that’s okay. Not many things, just some.” Lexa placed the necklace down and reached for a broken blade with the name “Costia” engraved into it. Clarke watched her trace the name, watched the curve of her brow as she struggled to figure out what a broken blade with a name is supposed to mean to her.

Clarke supposed she could start there. She didn’t know much about Costia, but she had asked Lexa about her a few times when they had been alone in her room. On the days that were quiet, when Lexa would read and she’d draw the landscape outside. They’d make steady conversation about each of their pasts, trying to know each other, trying to trust each other. Lexa had been closed about Costia at first, but she eventually opened up to Clarke about it. Not a lot, but enough to let Clarke feel that Lexa was comfortable with her.

“You loved her.” Clarke says gently, her voice not as desperate or croaky as it had been before. Clarke reached out with a finger and tapped the name on the blade still in Lexa’s hand. “I don’t know much, before you… before everything happened you told me a little bit. Would you like to hear it?” Clarke asks gently, leaving the name on the blade and looking at Lexa who was now staring at her with a raised eyebrow.

“I suppose. If I loved her, why can I not remember her, but I can remember you?” Lexa asked gently, more to herself than to Clarke.

Clarke answered the best she could anyway. “Probably because it used to be painful to think about her. She died in a rather brutal way, it hurt you. Perhaps it’s not something your mind wanted you to remember quite yet.” Clarke tries and the corner of her mouth tilts up when Lexa nods in acknowledgement.

“I suppose that is possible.” Lexa whispers, tracing the name. “What did I tell you about her?” Lexa asks curious now, twirling the blade in her fingers, as skilled as ever.

Clarke watched her hands for only a moment. “You didn’t tell me much, but you did say that Costia had been someone you were very close to from a young age. You guys grew up together, building each other up when others put you down.” Clarke pulled her knees to her chest. “You said that Costia was someone you had trusted. You told me Costia was as much a friend and an ally as she was your lover.” Clarke never liked referring to Costia as Lexa’s lover; it stirred uneasily in her for ridiculous reasons. But that was what Costia was. Clarke knew it was important for her to tell her everything.

“When did she die?” Clarke was relieved Lexa didn’t ask how.

“I’m not completely sure when. I hadn’t been around at that time. I was still in the sky.” Clarke smiles over at her warmly.

“The sky?” Lexa asks bewildered, looking out the window of her balcony to the stars. “How?” Lexa shot her gaze back to Clarke who was grinning at her now amused herself.

“I used to live on a ship in space called the ark. We were up there because we thought the world wasn’t survivable.” Clarke lays her chin on her knees. “We were sent down eventually because we ran out of oxygen… but really that story is unimportant.” Clarke brushes it off and watches Lexa’s bewildered gaze with amusement.

“That explains why they call you skaikru.” Lexa looks at the stars. “Living in the sky…” She mutters it out as if the idea is absurd but beautiful at the same time. Clarke watches her with overwhelming affection. “How did we meet Clarke? If you lived in the sky for so long?” Lexa breaks her green gaze from the stars to look at Clarke curiously again.

A painful smile etched its way onto Clarke’s lips. “Because of war.” Clarke breaks the gaze. “You should be getting some rest.” Clarke mutters about to stand, but Lexa grabs her wrist to keep her where she is.

“Clarke,” she urges gently, and Clarke lets her gaze look at her now. “I am _very_ hungry.” The brunette pleads quietly, and Clarke releases an amused snort into the silence. The tension from the moment before breaking and leaving her shoulders. She felt herself relax as she nodded at the girl, that affectionate smile appearing on her lips again.

 

…

 

Lexa watched the guards training. She watched them swing at each other with swords and shoot arrows into hay filled dummies. She watched them because it made her feel at ease. It was her second day, and Clarke had been gone all day. She was being followed around by two guards who always smiled at her when she looked up. She never returned their grin, though she did acknowledge it with a nod of her head. Clarke told her to stay near the tower that going out amongst the city with her face was too dangerous.

In fact, Clarke had given her so many restrictions because it either “wasn’t safe” or “wasn’t necessary”. Clarke was going to suffocate her with rules, and it had only been day two. She couldn’t find it in herself to complain however, she understood the blonde’s hesitation. Clarke had been Lexa’s lover at some point, Lexa meant a great deal to her. Now that she was back, Clarke was going to do whatever she could to keep her safe. Lexa would let her. Clarke after all, was the only person that could help her.

 _“Leksa, do you want to join?”_ Lexa jumped at her name, snapping green eyes up to look at a tall and rather fit man. His mischievous happy grin was endearing, but off putting. Lexa wasn’t sure Clarke would like it if she got involved in combat, at least not yet. She didn’t want to anger the blonde with the off chance she might send her out on her own, still clueless about the life she once led. Clarke didn’t come off as the type of person to do something like that, though.

 _“I do not believe it wise I do.”_ Lexa shrugged sheepishly, staring at the sword being held out to her almost longingly. She’s been sitting here all day, doing mostly nothing, waiting on Clarke to return for who knows what. She was restless. She had never been this still on any day since waking up in the woods. Most of her days were spent clashing swords with the village soldiers and pickpocketing the bigger ones to trade with Gus. Now she was just bored, and almost sad at the thought of Gus.

 _“Come on Heda,”_ The man urged the sword forward, not even flinching at what he had just called her. She stared at him a moment, hesitant.

 _“Alright, but do not call me heda. That is Klark’s title.”_ She didn’t think Clarke would be too angry, since Lexa had been everyone’s former heda. However, she did know how Clarke got when they didn’t respect the title, she had seen it. She wouldn’t want to see this man have the angry blonde after him.

 _“Yes Leksa.”_ The man tipped his head down in acknowledgment. A light entered his eyes once Lexa took the sword and swung it around in her fingers skillfully, getting used to its feel. _“That is your sword Leksa. You weld it before your passing.”_ The man led her to the center of the ring and shouted a few demands at the other soldiers who were now watching her rather intently.

“Are we sparing?” Lexa swung her sword skillfully again, earning some excited chuckles from the onlookers. Her guards who had been watching her all day had joined the circle, rather excited themselves to see the ex-commander at work once more. She kind of liked this attention. She rather enjoyed fighting, she knew that already. It’s one of the few things she found comforting in the past six months.

“If you wish.” The man swung his sword as well, proving his worth with a mischievous grin. Lexa wanted to spare and knock that grin off his face. She felt the adrenaline enter her veins, felt the excitement as he took a stance.

“I do wish.” Lexa allowed her very own smirk to grace her lips. Her confidence had boosted immensely since being handed the sword, and she suddenly didn’t feel like a stranger in her surroundings. She had been antsy all day. Finally, she has something to do.

“Bring it on then Leksa kom Trikru.” His grin widened with her, and she gave him a nod in acknowledgement, finding her own stance. They paced around the ring a moment, getting ready, wondering which would swing first. Lexa knew it wouldn’t be herself.

The man was taller than her, much bigger than her, but she wasn’t frightened. That voice in the back of her head tells her she’s taken out worse. Hell, she knocked down worse before being brought here. She can only imagine what Leksa kom Trikru has done. The thought gives her more confidence, fighting more a muscle memory than most anything else. “You frightened?” Lexa challenged corking an eyebrow up in mock amusement.

The man in front of her chuckled but kept his stance. “I’ve been trained to not know fear.” The man teased back with a grin that lightened Lexa’s heart. He swung out at her, but not unexpectedly, and she dodged it easily, not even flinching as the sword hit the ground beside her.

“Everyone is afraid of something.” She teased, swinging her own sword out gracefully but missing the man on purpose.

His grin widened. “Rusty Leksa?” His eyes were shimmering. Lexa wondered if they had met before.

She swung her sword gracefully. “Perhaps I’m just going easy on you.” She added light heartedly, noticing the smiles that surrounded the pair.

“Enough play time.” The man chuckles and begins his onslaught of blows. Lexa dodges most of them, stops many with her sword, and swings her own blows that aren’t meant to hit him. They clash swords repeatedly, dodge over and over, neither trying to knock the other out. Lexa is having fun for the first time since coming to Polis. She isn’t worried or scared or trying to maintain an image. Swordplay always makes her feel this way. She’s letting loose, letting her guard down.

She didn’t expect to be attacked by images. Suddenly her head is pounding fiercely, and images after image of swords and battle pass through her mind. She can see herself fighting, feel the same adrenaline, and feel the pain when she’s hit.

_Suddenly she’s outside, in a ring much large then the training one she’s in now. People are shouting “heda, heda, heda,” and someone is lying on the ground by her feet. A large guy, staring up at her. She isn’t paying attention to him, her eyes wonder to a blonde in the crowd that Lexa knows as Clarke. They make eye contact, it’s intense, and the blonde nods, worry leaving her eyes. Lexa feels her heart clench, her breath hitch and desire to cross this circle and capture the blonde’s waist, pull her against her, and kiss her as passionately as possible in front of everyone. It’s what she wants to do, but she can’t. She has to respect her boundaries; Clarke wouldn’t want her to do that. Clarke may be backing her, but it doesn’t mean she trusts her. Lexa lets out a strangled breathe as she steps away from the man on the ground and begins to leave. Her back turning to Clarke to give her the space she needs without making a mistake and crossing the line to soon._

Lexa is on the ground, hands in her hair, head still pounding, a throbbing on her upper thigh where the bigger man’s sword had sliced her when she fell suddenly. Her guards were around her, trying to gain her attention, not touching her in worries they’d cross some kind of line. Lexa groans, making to sit up but the pain of the memories is too much and she slumps back down. The sun is too much, everything is too bright.

“Leksa,” one of the guards urges, reaching out and hesitantly placing a hand on her side. She flinches, squirming away from it and manages to sit up.

“What’s going on here?” Lexa flinches again. _Too loud_. She cups here hands over her ears in an attempt to quiet the noise, her eyes staying firmly shut. “What happened!?” The worried tone of the blonde urges her eyes open, but once the sun hits her, her head throbs too much and her eyes are snapping shut again.  “Tell me what happened now?” Clarke was demanding, now on her knees next to Lexa, fingers touching her upper arms before moving to the slice on her thigh.

Lexa can’t open her eyes to tell, but she’s sure by the quiver of the bigger man’s voice that Clarke is giving him that look she gave to the soldiers that brought her to Clarke. “I do not know heda. We were sparing and then she…”

“She what?” Clarke snapped her tone harsh but not a shout. The throbbing in Lexa’s head is starting to subside, the image of worried blue eyes however, stay. And when she finally is able to open her own, she’s greeted with orbs that don’t look much different from her memory.

“It’s okay Clarke,” Lexa muttered out, her voice quieter then she’d like it be. Clarke’s staring down at her with those pretty blue eyes, hands reaching out and cupping her face.

“I leave for a few hours and you’re trying to die again.” Clarke says lightly, though her tone is laced with worry and fear. Lexa smiles slightly at her.

“It’s just a scratch.” Lexa grins at her, she squints her eyes to relieve some of the pain from the brightness. Clarke’s smile is sad though her lips are turned up with a small smile. She breaks her gaze with the brunette to examine the cut on her thigh and sighs lightly.

“Even a scratch can get infected, come on, let’s clean you up.” Clarke mutters lightly, grabbing at the brunette’s waist and pulling her up. Lexa groans slightly and leans on Clarke as they walk toward the tower, the crowd watching them with each step. Lexa’s guards follow until Clarke turns and dismisses them with a wave of her hand.

“So what happened?” Clarke whispers beside Lexa’s ear as they walk. Clarke’s grip is deathly, but Lexa doesn’t say anything. Instead she examines the blonde’s face. The worry in her orbs, the furrow of stress on her brow. Instead of answering Lexa lets her fingers trail through blonde locks, pushing it behind the girl’s ear.

“How was your day?” Lexa asks lightly, her headache remained, but it was no longer strong. In fact, the memories she suddenly felt had her curious. She thought maybe she’d ask Clarke some questions about it. She could explain the memory and see what Clarke knows. From what she could remember Clarke had been upset with her at that time. Lexa wonders why, and wonders when Clarke stopped being upset with her.

“Stressful, and then I come home and find you flailing on the ground. Can’t you stay put for at least a day?” Clarke scolds lightly. She’s always going to be worried. Lexa watches her carefully, watches her brow furrow further. She wonders what the blonde was like before she was heda. She wonders if she used to smile or laugh. Then Lexa wonders if she ever made the blonde smile or laugh. They enter into the tower in silence. It isn’t long before they’re entering Clarke’s room, even though Lexa wonders why she doesn’t take her to the infirmary they passed on the way by.

“I am sorry for worrying you Klark.” Lexa isn’t sure why she says her name like that. It just slips out. But it does something to Clarke in front of her. She stiffens as she sets the brunette on the couch, her eyes darkening a fraction before she shakes her head to knock thoughts off.

“You’re going to have to take your pants off. I’ll be right back.” Clarke disappeared to the bathroom section of the room and Lexa watched her leave with a frown.

She let out a sigh and stood to shrug out of her pants, sitting back down on the couch and propping her leg up that had the slice on her thigh. She examined it herself, looking at the wound. It wasn’t deep at all; just a scratch had been a perfect description. She wondered what had happened to her to make Clarke worry so much. What had happened that she couldn’t remember?

She asked that a lot didn’t she?

“Okay here.” Clarke appeared next to her again, putting a blanket over her lap. She kneeled down next to her leg, examining the cut before beginning to clean it. Lexa focused too much on the blonde’s fingers that caressed her thigh and sucked in her breathe when the liquid cleaning her cut touched it and stung. Clarke was ripping sheet then, lifting Lexa’s thigh and wrapping the cloth around it to cover the cut. Lexa doubted she needed a bandage, but again, she let Clarke do whatever made her feel better.

“Can I ask you a question Clarke?” Lexa was careful how she pronounced the blonde’s name this time. She feared making her angry, and _Klark_ seemed to manage that. She’d be sure to ask why at another time.

“You just did.” Clarke teased lightly. A smile didn’t touch her lips and her eyes didn’t light up. She looked almost empty. Lexa wanted to ask why, but that wasn’t the question she had surfacing in her mind. Something told Lexa, Clarke wouldn’t answer her anyway.

“Funny,” Lexa answered tightly, the tension in the room making her uncomfortable. “I am serious.” Lexa pursued her lips, as Clarke looked up from her thigh, finishing with her bandage.

“You are.” Clarke raised an eyebrow. “What is it?” She managed thickly, her eyes still that dark color they had been when Lexa had said her name that certain way. She again wondered why that was.

But that wasn’t her question. “What happened to me?” Lexa’s voice dropped to a whisper. Her breath catching as Clarke’s eyes locked with hers in a dark stare. “How did I die?” She isn’t sure if this is the right time to ask Clarke, who seems tense and wound tightly, but Lexa had to know. She had to know why the blonde was sure she was dead when they first met, why no one believed she was Lexa until they saw her neck. She had so many questions, she needed some answers.

“I’m not sure I can talk about it.” Clarke admits honestly, her voice cracking slightly as she looks down at her own hands. Lexa feels the need to comfort her, so she does. Her own hand reaches out and grips her fingers. Clarke doesn’t look up at her though, just keeps her blue gaze steady on their hands.

“Can you please try?” Lexa begs quietly. She needs this, this information. She needs to know things that she doesn’t know now. She’s so tired of not understanding. She needs progress, and though it seems action helps her remember, she’d prefer some insight on her life when the memories hit.

“Okay…” Clarke takes in a deep breath. “How about we go and have dinner and talk and I’ll try.” Clarke lifts her gaze from their hands back to Lexa’s eyes. Though her pretty sky-like orbs don’t stay there and eventually they examine every inch of Lexa’s face before finding themselves at a stop on her lips.

That gaze makes Lexa’s heart pound against her ribcage. It makes her cheeks flush pink before she can stop it. It makes her palms sweat and her body shiver. So she lifts her hand that’s starting to tremble from Clarke’s and brings it to herself, afraid the blonde will see just the kind of physical effect she has on the brunette.

It frustrated Lexa that she feels this way for someone she can’t remember. Though she’s sure her memories will come back, maybe not all of them, but enough of them. Then she’ll understand. Then she can return the gaze that settles on her. It feels unfair. Clarke looks at her in a way that can’t be described and Lexa can’t return it. It makes Lexa feel disappointed in herself.

“I am starving.” Lexa mumbles after a while of silence, the tension rising once again. She doesn’t want it to rise, she’d prefer it leave and never come back. It makes her uncomfortable, makes her squirm in her seat, makes her want to do things to the blonde she’d never say out loud. She shouldn’t even be thinking them.

“You seem to always be.” Clarke chuckles and grips Lexa’s hand to pull her up as well, forgetting she wasn’t wearing any pants. Clarke clears her throat when the blanket falls to the floor and forces her eyes on the blonde’s face; they darken again, sending that feeling to Lexa’s stomach. The flipping kind, the thoughts she keeps fighting off racing once again through her mind. “Change and meet me in the hall. Clothes are over there. They all belong to you anyway.” Clarke’s voice was husky though she didn’t mean for it to be, and she almost tripped over herself exiting through the heavy door of her room.

Once the door closed behind Lexa, she finally released a heavy breath she had been holding far too long. The tension rolled off of her shoulders as she made her way toward the place Clarke had pointed at that held… _her_ clothes.

When Lexa touched the first piece of clothing in her closet, small flashes, pictures in her mind swirled a little, but not strong enough for her to understand what exactly what was going on in them. Just images of her dressing another girl, smiling at her, kissing her. When the swirling had stopped and Lexa was dressed, she wondered briefly if that was Costia. She wondered why Costia’s memories weren’t as intense as Clarke’s.

She figured her love for one was different than the other.

 

…

 

Clarke scrapes her fork along the plate in front of her. She figured she should probably start talking but she couldn’t manage it. She hadn’t spoken to anyone about the way Lexa died, and even though it should be easier now that Lexa is sitting next to her, it isn’t. The problem is she still died. She doesn’t know how Lexa came back, doesn’t know why she came back, but she did die. Clarke held her as she did so, watched the light leave her eyes, and felt her lips quiver against her own before becoming immobile. The memory still haunted Clarke’s dreams. Something like that wasn’t easy to talk about.

She guessed Lexa realized that, and that’s why she wasn’t pushing. That’s why she had asked her to only try, as if she’d understood that she couldn’t. But Lexa seemed impatient, whether she said so out loud or not. She couldn’t imagine being in Lexa’s position, being surrounded by things and people who remember you when you don’t know them at all. It has to be confusing, not to mention when she does receive a memory it knocks her to the ground. Clarke couldn’t imagine what Lexa was thinking most of the time.

She used to feel this way about Lexa before her death. But it had been different then, Lexa had been different then. Lexa was still Lexa, but you could see the struggle in her. She didn’t have as much of a guard either; she was far too willing to let people in. Perhaps that was only because she couldn’t remember how hard it is for her to trust. In a way, Lexa had found some kind of peace having forgotten everything.

Clarke still silently begged her to remember. She needed her too. Clarke felt hopeless, she couldn’t help her but the girl thought she could for some reason. Clarke knows next to nothing on memory loss and amnesia. If Lexa hadn’t gotten all her memories back by now, however long she’s been awake, then who’s to say she’ll ever remember at all? The possibility hurt Clarke.

But nothing like that mattered as long as Lexa was breathing. She was breathing and alive and real and that’s the only thing that was important to Clarke now. Lexa who had died, Lexa who she loved, was alive again, and sitting across from her eating rather messy and it was the cutest thing Clarke had seen in a long time. The girl’s hunger made Clarke’s heart pound, her chuckles made Clarke’s breath catch, her voice, her tone when she said her name, made Clarke shake with want and fear all at the same time. If Lexa were to never remember her as before, Clarke would get to know her now. This was her second chance… She wasn’t going to waste it.

“Are you not hungry?” Lexa asked, breaking the peaceful silence that had enveloped them. No doubt she noticed Clarke’s eyes had not left her while she scrapped her fork around her plate aimlessly. Clarke didn’t eat much, she was never really hungry. Ever since she landed on the ground she had grown accustomed to rations and low sources. And even though she doesn’t have to worry of that now, she still finds herself eating very little but enough to sustain her health.

“I don’t eat much.” Clarke answered softly, still watching the brunette. She was sure her staring and looks must be annoying her, but Clarke could hardly help it. _She’s real._

“You do not sleep, you do not eat.” Lexa quirked a perfect eyebrow curiously, watching Clarke’s eyes now. “I am sometimes curious as to what you have been through that would make you so resistant to your health.” Lexa turned her head slightly to the right and Clarke couldn’t help it.

She laughed. She really actually laughed for the first time in months. She tipped her head back, the sound falling from her mouth, her chest hurting with the action that felt so foreign but so damn nice. This seemed to surprise the brunette, though a smile stretched across her lips as Clarke continued laughing. “That’s a beautiful sound.” Lexa had mumbled out, dropping her eyes back on her nearly empty plate.

“You can have more. That’s why I had so much cooked.” Clarke urged gently once her laughing had subsided slightly, though the lighthearted tone didn’t leave her voice.

“I am sorry. I am really hungry.” Lexa shrugged sheepishly, a shy look crossing her features as she refilled her plate. Clarke watched her only with adoration and disbelief that she was real… But _she is real_.

“Don’t apologize. Eat as much as you want.” Clarke encouraged, pushing her own plate away from her.

Lexa had slowed down her movements, and wasn’t eating so ravenously now. “Can you try now?” Lexa whispered after a few moments, aware that the blonde was still watching her very intently.

Clarke nodded stiffly, straightening herself in her chair. She closed her eyes as if to compose herself, and let out a shaky breath as she allowed herself to think of the day that Lexa had died. Clarke never willingly thought about it. She had been shoving the day out of her mind, breaking down in the middle of the night full of guilt for months. Now she was willingly going there.

“It was my fault.” Clarke whispered, her voice sounding far more broken than she had planned. Lexa had stopped eating, her eyes watching the blonde curiously. She had a wrinkle in her forehead as her face scrunched up trying to understand what she had said. Clarke forced herself to explain further. “When you had died, the old ways of how a commander was chosen was still in effect. You had the flame in the back of your neck.” Clarke reached behind herself, touching along her own neck as if for an example. “My people had done some… terrible things against yours. Slaughtered many innocent lives and I encouraged you to change your ways. You may or may not have heard by now of the influence I had on you.” Clarke shifted in her seat slightly; she couldn’t look at Lexa while she explained this, while she thought about this. It was already hard enough. “There was a man, called the flamekeeper. He’s supposed to remove the flame from a commander’s neck after they die and the conclave begins. I don’t know if you know much about that. I will describe it later.” Clarke glanced at the brunette to see if she was listening, and her breath hitched with the way the girl was looking at her. Sometimes, it was hard for Clarke to remember that Lexa didn’t remember. “But he was more to you than just that. This man’s name, Titus, he was your mentor, your friend, your teacher. He had protected you before, trying to keep you safe. But…” Clarke shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes easily. “He didn’t approve of your feelings for me. You kept me safe here protected me. He thought you changed your ways because of me, because if you didn’t my people would be dead. In a way, it’s true. I had encouraged you, but you wanted peace Lexa.” Clarke had no idea why she was trying to convince her of anything. To assuage her own guilt maybe, the guilt she had been holding onto for Lexa’s death, for all of the deaths that are her fault. “We wanted the same things. I was just…” Clarke let out a shaky breath and hadn’t realized Lexa had come closer to her until she felt the girl’s hand on her wrist, comforting her. “The leader for my people, he was a bad person. You didn’t want to take us out, we had devised a plan. I was going back, to help. I was supposed to leave, but…” Clarke’s voice cracked as tears spilled onto her cheeks, tears she couldn’t hold in anymore. Lexa’s grip on her wrist tightened. “Because Titus didn’t approve he tried to kill me, shot at me to frame one of my friends so you would think a sky person had killed me. He thought if I died, it would save you, stop you from making decisions he found foolish.” Clarke wiped at her eyes with her free hand. “He had never used a gun before. He was a bad aim. I was trying to get out of the room, ran for the door. But you… You came in and one of the bullets meant for me, it hit you.” Clarke’s voice broke at the end, the tears in her eyes still falling as her gaze stayed on her lap. “It was my fault. If I hadn’t encouraged you to change your ways, if I had left sooner, or just taken the stupid bullet or…”

“Hey,” Lexa interrupts her tone harsh but soft all at the same time. She’s grabbing Clarke’s chin and turning her face to look at her. Green eyes gentle and caring and Clarke easily gets lost in them. _She’s real, she’s real, she’s real._ Clarke keeps reminding herself as the brunette wipes her fingers along the blonde’s cheek, banishing tears. “How can you blame yourself for this?” Lexa whispers so quietly, her confusion evident. Clarke can feel her heart stopping at the sound of her voice.

“Because it’s my…”

“I do not want to ever hear you say that it is your fault ever again.” Lexa says gently. “Do you know how the village people look at Leksa because of you?” Lexa is cupping the blondes face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs along her cheeks as more tears fall, keeping her gaze steady. Clarke’s heart is in her throat, though the lump there makes it hard for her to breathe as is. “Commander of peace, Clarke. You did that.” Lexa mutters quietly, a soft smile grazing perfect lips. “You are not the one that found that gun; you are not the one that put it in Titus’s hands. You are not the one that shot it off.” Lexa ran fingers through the blonde’s hair soothingly, smiling at her sadly as her tears kept falling. “The only thing that you did Clarke was give me love and peace. I don’t think commander’s often get that do they?” Lexa whispers, shifting closer to the blonde as her tears seemed to be growing worse.

Clarke felt the words hitting her heart, felt herself shake as more tears fell. She wanted to stop crying, but Lexa was here. Lexa was alive and telling her these things, and though it didn’t take the pain away, it made some things okay after so long of it not being okay.

Lexa’s arms wrapped around Clarke and then they were hugging and Clarke let herself be weak. She let herself find comfort in the arms around her, the arms she’d thought she’d never feel again.

“Titus killed himself a day later.” Clarke whispered after a while of just sitting there in Lexa’s warm embrace. She didn’t want to leave it, but she knew she had to. So she was pulling back, wiping her face again, happy that the tears had finally subsided.

“Let’s talk about something else now. Tell me about your day.” Lexa answered in a shushed tone, reaching across the table and grabbing her plate so she could eat while she sat close to Clarke, who still needed her proximity and comfort.

“Ugh,” Clarke huffed and collapsed her head into her arms. “We’ve spent all day trying to come up with some way to solve the brutality issue occurring in the outer villages. It’s not just the outer villages now though. Some people… they want violence and war. I don’t understand.” Clarke sat up shaking her head, though she noticed a sudden stiffness to the brunette that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“I don’t know of a way you can solve it. But I do know of some that I came across on my way to you.” Lexa mutters, her head down now. A hurt expression crosses her features and Clarke feels the anger flare in her before she can stop it.

“Who?” Clarke mutters out coldly, the anger in her tone surprising even her.

“When I woke Clarke, I was alone. I was in the woods; I couldn’t remember anything, not even my name. I walked for hours before I crossed a traveler, Gus… He… Him and his wife…” Lexa frowned and looked back down at her food. “They killed them.” Lexa said bitterly. “So I killed three of them before the group of them brought me here, to you.” Lexa looks at Clarke. “The people that brought me in. They just watched, laughed when the one guy stabbed Nona… It was disgusting.” Lexa felt angry speaking of it. But Clarke had to know. Nona and Gus deserved justice and Clarke… Clarke would give them that.

“I remember them. Don’t worry Lex… I’ll…” Clarke trailed off, huffed a sigh, gritted her teeth and then abruptly stood from her place at the table. “I have to go for a while. Please remain in the tower while I’m gone. I don’t want to come back and find you hurt on the ground again.”

Lexa reached for her hand to stop her but Clarke was already half way out the door before she could. A sudden loneliness enveloped Lexa, though she felt that Clarke was leaving to find the group that Lexa had told her of. She still wanted the blonde to stay, to talk to her some more. She was the only thing that made any sense to Lexa, even when she didn’t make sense at all.

Clarke had exited the room at a fast pace, spitting commands to the guards to watch over Lexa while she is gone. The rage she felt at someone hurting Lexa, anyone hurting Lexa at all ate at her core. She would protect Lexa with her life; help the best she could with her memories, and bring justice to those that ever tried to harm her. Lexa would not die again… Clarke wouldn’t let it. _She’s real._ The thought calmed her as she stormed out of the tower toward her horse.

_She’s real._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I answered the Titus question in this chapter, and now Clarke knows about Gus and Nona so she'll be doing something about it. Other questions will be answered later. I hope you guys like how I'm doing the memory thing. I'm trying to do it slowly.
> 
> Slight confession: before 3x09 aired I had plans to write that Clarke killed Titus in anger and spite and hurt. But I decided to get rid of that idea because Clarke doesn't need another death on her conscious. 
> 
> Also, please don't harass me about Costia. I'm trying to handle her the best way I know how and I don't want anyone getting mad thinking I'm not writing about her right. Lexa doesn't remember her at this moment, so her feelings of loss for Costia aren't exactly there yet. 
> 
> I actually really like writing this and I'm super pleased about all the comments and kudos and attention it's been getting. That really does mean a lot. It's so cool, I didn't expect that at all, so thank you very much. 
> 
> I hope you all liked this chapter, I promise I'll try to update a little sooner this time. After I turn in my project and do my speech tomorrow in English my homework load will lessen and I'll have more time to devote to writing. :)


	5. Do you like me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A whole lot of Clexa fluff,  
> basically just Clarke and Lexa bonding while sort of extending the plot but not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the fifth chapter. I know it's been awhile, I do apologize. I don't really have a good excuse or anything, besides, excuses are lame. But anyways, I hope you like this chapter. I'm introducing something important for Lexa in the sixth chapter, as well, so this is kind of just fluffy clexa until I get there.
> 
> We follow Clarke all the way through this chapter, so next chapter we're just going to follow Lexa mostly, to make up for that. 
> 
> Anyways, go read. :)

The following week had been a torturous process of finding a way to weed through her military, and bring justice without enforcing old grounder tradition. Of course the thought was brought up time and time again that such violent acts should be met with an equally violent death, but there was no way Clarke would allow things to be handled the same way that they were. Not only would that be pointless for all she’s worked for, but it would be an insult to Lexa’s memory as commander.

She had barely been around Polis for most of the week, and saw little of Lexa tell their normal evening dinners that had somehow ended up being routine. But Lexa had found herself company and things to do while Clarke was away. She seemed to like sparring, and teaching the younger kids how to fight. None of this was news to Clarke, but to have Lexa back and to see that she still likes these things only made it all the more real to Clarke that this really was Lexa. Whether this was a second chance at love or a second chance for Lexa alone, Clarke couldn’t find it in herself to care. Lexa was here, and that’s all that matters.

Some memories came back to Lexa over the week in flashes, sometimes they were intense, and sometimes they would only sort of distract her from what she was doing. The more intense memories always threw Lexa to the ground like she was in the absolute worst pain. She wouldn’t respond for what felt like hours and when she did come back it was always with a bad headache and exhaustion that soon made her sleep for hours. She always woke up different after these memories, like a different piece of her was found and she was forming a weird combination of the Lexa she was and the Lexa she is now.

When those kinds of memories came it always scared Clarke if she was there to witness it. She felt helpless to the situation, and the way it always made Lexa look brought Clarke back to her own memories she didn’t care to remember, the ones that still haunt her dreams. She wasn’t able to leave Lexa’s side after them, and when Lexa awoke, she always made her favorite meal.

She never forced Lexa to talk about it, but Lexa normally launched into her own explanation over every dinner. Even when Clarke wasn’t there to witness Lexa remember something, she’d always tell Clarke about it during these times. She had more life to her that Clarke watched leave with every new memory, which reminded her that Lexa’s life has never been full of good and love. Most of her memories hurt, and she can see that in the way Lexa loses enthusiasm each time she remembers something.

The small memories were better for Lexa. Not necessarily in a happy way, but for her physical being. They didn’t exhaust her, or change her attitude much. For the most part they were flashes that excited Lexa and made her curious as to what the whole memories were. She theorized to Clarke of all the things she could possibly think of, and Clarke filled in spaces when she could. Lexa really loved to talk to Clarke, which was not something Clarke was completely used too. Sure Lexa before had talked to Clarke plenty, but it had been different than this. This Lexa spoke to Clarke with enthusiasm as much as care. She was more willing to dive into a story and even add some bout of humor to it. Clarke would sometimes wonder if this was what Lexa was like before the troubles of her world really took her over, humorous and sweet and really, really talkative. Well, to Clarke at least. She still gave Octavia stiff answers, and though she was friendlier with Indra, gave her affectionate smiles and such but she didn’t really joke with her or discuss stories with her. It was like that part of who Lexa was she had reserved only for Clarke, and it set off something warm and familiar in her chest that blossomed each time Lexa spoke to her.

 With each intense memory that part of Lexa seemed to grow quieter at their dinners and during their evenings. Clarke almost found herself wishing that Lexa wouldn’t remember anything else, just so she could stay like this; untroubled and talkative. But a stronger part of her wanted her to remember, to mold into this weird version of the two Lexa’s and find some kind of middle… to remember their love.

Regardless of Lexa having three of those intense memory attacks throughout the week, none of them were significant to Clarke or of recent memories Lexa had before her passing. One regarded Anya, training with her and becoming her second and sharing secrets with her about secret hookups with girls among other clans. Lexa had told Clarke that this memory of Anya had triggered smaller ones and soon Lexa could remember Anya better than anyone else.  When Lexa found the lock of her hair in a chest of her things, she saw briefly, herself holding the lock in her hands as she sat on a throne and asked if she died well, but the memory wasn’t complete or intense and Lexa had no idea what had happened or was even happening in that memory. When Lexa asked Clarke, and Clarke filled in the blanks for her, she didn’t talk the rest of dinner. Clarke didn’t press her too.

 Another had been of when she was younger and first arrived in Polis do to her night blood status. She remembers saying goodbye to her parents and feeling lonely and afraid most of the time. She remembers having to learn how defend herself because that commander hadn’t been very nice to the night bloods knowing they were his replacement, and when he died and the older conclave took place, she remembers watching the night bloods kill each other and wondering how she could ever do that to the people she had become friends with. Lexa didn’t sleep that night, and neither did Clarke who stayed with her to talk about the lighter things like what Lexa’s favorite books to read were when they used to have talks in their rooms months ago when Lexa had been commander. Lexa liked hearing Clarke’s stories of her, listened without interrupting most of the time.

“You really loved her didn’t you? Or me, technically.” Lexa had added light heartedly, smiling at Clarke, that smile only reserved for Clarke.

Clarke’s returned smile wasn’t strong, but still full of affection. “Let’s wait and see if you remember that you love me too before we talk about that?” She encouraged, bumping Lexa’s shoulder with her own as they lounged on Lexa’s bed.

“I am sorry. I didn’t think about how inconsiderate that was until after I said it. This can’t be easy for you either.” Lexa shuffled her hands into her lap and looked down at them with that curve to her eyebrow that told Clarke she was thinking too much.

She adored it. “It wasn’t inconsiderate, Lexa. Just an observation.” Clarke patted her hand gently with her own to tell her she was fine and that everything was okay and would continue to be okay and it worked. Lexa relaxed next to her, that soft smile only for Clarke returning to those very pretty lips.

The last memory she had, had that week was of her first kill. This memory only hardened Lexa’s resolve, and she refused to talk to even Clarke about it that night at dinner. Clarke didn’t push her into talking about anything, especially that night, after trying and quickly being shut down by a familiar glare that Clarke never thought she’d see in Lexa’s eyes again.

She followed Lexa into her room, told her of her day and how the trials were going and how the new methods were working out and Lexa listened as she fumbled around getting ready for bed. When she was lying down, and Clarke was sitting beside her, talking her to sleep, she even let herself shuffle fingers through brown curls. Clarke had hesitated to do it, thought it over and over again through her head before she gave in. She feared Lexa would be mad, especially with how Lexa had been feeling all day. But Lexa didn’t push her away, just hummed in response to the touch and seemed to relax and the first smile all day appeared on her lips. So Clarke stayed there until she looked like she had actually gone to sleep, her breathing heavy and even and one of the most beautiful sounds Clarke had ever heard.

A soft raspy voice stopped Clarke from leaving the side of the bed when she had stood up. “Clarke,” And it was said in that way that made Clarke’s heart race and swell three sizes too large for her chest. It was said in that way that made Clarke feel like she was the most important thing to Lexa. Clarke yet again, was blinking away tears that threatened to fall because this was surreal. How was this even possible? Was this luck? Clarke had never really known what true luck was. Like she was finally receiving a gift that she didn’t even think she deserved. _Her Lexa._

“Lexa,” Clarke had responded just as gently, after she had thought she’d sound stable enough to mutter the syllables of her name without her voice shaking. She was trying to cry less in front of Lexa, though she managed to do it almost every night. Lexa never complained though, either hugged her or just simply placed a hand on her waiting for her to calm down. Lexa being Lexa, so gentle, so caring, so sweet, so beautiful.

“I’m not sure I want to remember anymore,” And her voice sounded strained, like she had been running or hadn’t used it in days. Clarke tried to ignore the sting her words brought, because how selfish of her. This was about Lexa not her, Lexa’s memories were painful, and Clarke knew that, it’s not impossible for Lexa to maybe not want to remember them. But Clarke couldn’t help the thought that Lexa didn’t want to remember her, no matter how silly that was. So the words stung, regardless of how stupid it was for them to do so.

“Try to rest Lexa.” Clarke responded quietly, the urge to shuffle back under the covers and hold Lexa while she slept was strong. But she couldn’t do that right now. Not while Lexa didn’t remember how much she liked to be held by Clarke, not while Lexa didn’t remember how much she loved Clarke. Clarke couldn’t do that to herself, as much as she couldn’t do it to Lexa.

 As Clarke padded her way back to her room, she shoveled down that feeling that stung in her chest from Lexa’s words. Told herself how ridiculous it was, and how it had nothing to do with Clarke but things that hurt Lexa, things Clarke couldn’t protect her from because they had already happened. It wasn’t like Lexa didn’t want to remember Clarke, because she did. She asked so many questions about how their relationship was that Clarke was growing tired of even having the conversation. So Clarke would remind herself of this as she shut the doors to her room, and vow again that night before her head hit the pillow to protect Lexa for the rest of her life, for as long as she possibly can, from anything that could hurt her now. She failed last time, but she wouldn’t ever again. _Her Lexa._

 

By Wednesday night, Lexa stopped asking Clarke about them and Clarke… Clarke felt like it was her fault. Which was ridiculous, because it’s not like she had put Lexa through all the pain she was starting to remember, Clarke hadn’t done anything but wish that Lexa would remember, and that’s probably why Clarke feels guilty. Because even as she watches the light leave Lexa’s eyes from every new memory, even as the taller girl grows quiet at their dinners and asks even less questions about herself and Polis and about Clarke, she still wanted her to remember. Even when she didn’t want Lexa to remember, she still prayed that she would. Clarke wanted Lexa to remember _her_.

Clarke felt responsible, but Clarke always felt responsible, that wasn’t new.

Clarke liked it when Lexa remembered the smaller things throughout the day while she was away, because Lexa would brighten up again and talk to Clarke all through their dinner that night. She didn’t like watching Lexa become hard, become this weird form of Leksa kom Trikru and Lexa who woke up in the woods. She wanted it, wanted that perfect middle but there wasn’t balance. Some part of the week Lexa was untroubled and easy going and others she was plagued by images that weren’t something a normal person deserved to see and she didn’t talk at all, and when she did it was always hard and cold and the glare in her eyes never left until she finally closed them. There wasn’t a safe middle, no matter how much Clarke wanted there to be, there wasn’t one. She wanted to protect Lexa from her own memories even though she knew she couldn’t, even though she wanted Lexa to remember.

Clarke had been gone most of Thursday, but the guards informed her that Lexa didn’t leave her room accept for some time around mid-day to throw some daggers into targets. She didn’t train with kids, she didn’t smile at them, she didn’t banter with the guards that usually followed her around all day, she didn’t make conversation with the staff in the kitchen, and she didn’t cook with them like she had all week. Lexa had been standoffish, cold, and spent most of her time alone. By dinner Clarke wasn’t sure if Lexa was even going to join her this time and she was prepared to have guards send the food to her room when she finally made it to Clarke.

“Lexa,” Clarke asked softly, noticing the slump to her shoulders, the way her eyes stay trained on the plate in front of her, the food she didn’t eat but pushed around. Ever since she had gotten back, Lexa had eaten more food than Clarke had ever seen anyone eat. Now she wasn’t taking a bite, wouldn’t even look at Clarke as she said her name again, just as gentle, just as quiet.

“Everyone I love dies, Clarke.” It was quiet and soft and Clarke wasn’t sure what she had managed to remember that day, but it wasn’t good. She could sense it in the tension in Lexa’s shoulders; see it in the way her pretty lips stayed tilted down in a frown, her Lexa frown. She saw it in the flutter of her eyelashes as she kept her gaze down, in the way her hair wasn’t braided or pulled out of her face, but down in curly waves around her shoulders, almost shadowing the details of her features.

“Lexa,” Clarke mumbled out just as soft as she had before, possibly even softer because whoever she remembered losing, which was a lot of people, was really hurting her this time. Humor was gone and Clarke didn’t realize that Lexa was actually crying until she sniffed and she saw her shoulder move, just a little, with a little shake that pulled the blonde from her seat instantly. She was around the table fast, sinking next to Lexa and pushing curls behind her ear so she could see her face; see the crinkle of her brow, the tremble of her lips, the tears spilling from her eyes. “What did you remember?” Clarke pressed, because Lexa needed to talk about it, needed to tell someone.

The brunette just shook her head, but not to protest, more as a plea, more as a “don’t make me, I can’t get the words out right now, please” and it made Clarke’s heart thump so hard in her chest she thought she’d explode. Clarke decided that she wouldn’t say anything else, because she knows what it feels like to lose everyone all the time, no matter how hard you try, and here Lexa was remembering it all at once.

Clarke pulled her into her arms and held her while she sighed and buried her face into the crook of Clarke’s neck and just slumped into her body. She cried, but it was quiet and Clarke probably would have thought she was just lying there if she couldn’t feel the dribble of tears hit her skin. Instead, Clarke just shuffled her fingers through Lexa’s hair and kissed her head every once in a while and mumbled “It’s okay, you’re okay.” Against her skin until she seemed to calm down enough to eat the food on her plate.

Clarke eventually moved back to her own seat to eat as well, the rest of dinner was mostly quiet until near the end, when Lexa looked up at her with puffy green eyes that Clarke adored. “I am sorry that you lost me, Clarke.” All Clarke could do was raise an eyebrow at her, curious, until Lexa straightened in her seat and said sternly. “But I am back now, and I am not going anywhere.” She said it with finality and determination and Clarke could feel her heart melt inside of her chest because Lexa couldn’t promise that but she did anyway, and it made everything feel okay for just a little longer.

“Finish your food Lexa,” Clarke added with an amused and affection smile that reached her eyes and made them shine in a way they hadn’t in such a long time. Lexa smiled back at her, small and soft and it touched her eyes too as she just sat there content to hold Clarke’s gaze for as long as they both wanted to stay there. It was familiar and wonderful and it seemed to help Lexa’s mood significantly because when she finally did break Clarke’s gaze she was talking again. Not animatedly or even as much as she had all week, but just enough for Clarke to know that she was going to be okay, and it set the blonde at ease as she repeated Lexa’s words over and over again in her head.

_I am back now._

_I am not going anywhere._

_Her Lexa._

 

Friday was when Lexa seemed more lively again, the memories that had been plaguing her mind throughout the week seemed to lessen significantly when she didn’t remember one new thing throughout the day, and she was back to training little kids how to properly throw a dagger into its target.

She spoke animatedly about how talented each one was, and why tradition should never have called for the night bloods to kill each other in combat to find out who should become the next commander when they all should have just led together. It was the first she really talked of it in this way since receiving the memory and Clarke didn’t interrupt her because she was enjoying the relaxed slump in Lexa’s shoulders. It was a change from the heavy night beforehand, and Lexa’s humor had returned. There was still no middle ground but it was growing less confusing for Clarke to keep up, she was getting used to it, used to this Lexa meeting the other one.

When Lexa asked more questions about the night bloods, Clarke gave her the best answers she could, based on what she knew, but recommended that she might talk to someone else about it, since Clarke really didn’t know all that much. Clarke was only happy that Lexa smiled at her across the table again, even as she dished into her second plate.

Clarke ate very little as she normally did and felt far more exhausted then she had all week. Between the trials and dealing with procedures and Lexa, everything was wearing on her. So she told Lexa that tonight would be an early night because she was tired, and watched as Lexa shuffled through her room to keep her company until she fell asleep instead of it being the other way around. Clarke isn’t sure when Lexa left, but she can remember the ghost of lips on her forehead and the click of a door before she had completely lost consciousness.

That night… Clarke slept for two of her normal four hours before the nightmares hit. Despite how exhausted she had been before falling asleep that did nothing for her dreams. Normally nightmares attacked her all night, but were bearable long enough for her to at least sleep four hours. These, these were worse than normal. The attacks weren’t uncommon for Clarke, she was used to little to no sleep. She had stopped waking up screaming; now it was usually only tears and sweat and ragged breathing. But for some reason, that night Clarke didn’t wake up like she had grown used too.

The nightmares were awful, they always were, but that night they were just… _awful_. Maybe that was only because Clarke hadn’t had time to think about anything else but how she’d handle these trials for the brutality in villages, and how the teams she had created were even going to help stop them. Maybe it was because she had watched Lexa’s shoulders grow stiffer as the days went on and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Maybe it was because Lexa had told her she didn’t want to remember her; maybe it was because Clarke still felt guilty for every last thing that had happened to her after Clarke had entered her life, maybe it was because Clarke never truly stopped hurting, even with Lexa alive.

Clarke didn’t realize she was screaming until she had opened her eyes to the panicked forest green ones in front of her, and with the plague of her recent nightmare, she thought Lexa was a part of it too. Because it may have been a week since Lexa came back to her, but that didn’t cut out what felt like a lifetime without her.

“Clarke,” Lexa said in that way she always says her name, so soft and gentle and caring. Clarke hated it, hated how her heart ached for her, and in her daze she believed this was a dream, and how cruel of a dream it was.

She pushed Lexa away from her as a sob escaped her throat and heaved its way through the rest of her body. “Get away from me.” She croaked, trying to shoo the nightmare, trying to find solace in herself so when she woke up alone it wouldn’t hurt as much. If she fell into this, this comfort of Lexa beside her, holding her, she’d wake up lonelier then ever when Lexa wasn’t next to her in the morning. Lexa wasn’t alive so how could she be there?

“Clarke,” The voice came again, soft forest green eyes full of concern and care and Clarke couldn’t look at them because it was so tempting to fall into.

“You’re not real, just leave me alone. I can’t wake up without you again.” Clarke’s voice was raspy, and it hurt when she tried to talk over the lump in her throat. Her vision blurred the dark figure in front of her, but those eyes were unmistakable. They shined in the night, brighter than Clarke had ever seen them in her sleep.

“You think you’re still asleep.” Lexa shot to Clarke again, who protested her hold, sobbing and begging for her to leave and let her go for once. Lexa didn’t listen. “You’re awake, Clarke, I promise you. This isn’t a dream. You’re okay. You’re safe.” Lexa cooed to her, wrapping the blonde in her arms when Clarke stopped protesting and just sobbed and moaned in pain until she couldn’t anymore.

“Don’t leave me.” She begged as Lexa rocked her, and when her eyes fell heavy and closed. She relaxed into the embrace, feeling the warmth of Lexa’s body beneath her, and finding comfort in the hands that held her and tangled in her hair that was knotted from all the tossing she had done in her sleep.

Before Clarke fell back asleep, she felt the ghost of Lexa’s kiss on her head and a soft, “Never again.” From her lips and Clarke lost consciousness after that, completely wrapped up in the hold and smell of the woman she loves most in all the world.

 

Clarke woke up dazed and dizzy and she wasn’t completely sure why. It was too bright, way too bright in her room, and that was odd because Clarke was always up around four am. The sun was never up before her anymore. What was even weirder was the way her body was slumped into another beneath her and Clarke briefly wondered if she had gone drinking the night before. She’s done it, but never brought someone back to her room with her. She hasn’t woken up beside another in… a long time.

But then Clarke remembered who was beneath her and she shifted only slightly to see if the brunette was okay. When she sat up, limbs heavy still, she found the taller girl’s eyes shut, face half buried in a pillow beside her, arms still lazily holding onto her, and Clarke felt her heart race and swell at the same time as it seemed to every time she found Lexa being so Lexa. This was _her Lexa_ , in _her_ bed, sleeping soundly below her. Clarke had not awoken alone for the first time in forever and it felt so good, she couldn’t find it in herself to actually get up.

She stared down at Lexa for another couple of minutes before settling back into the girl’s body where she had been before and burying her face into the crook of the girl’s neck, running her nose along the skin there and smiling slightly when Lexa shivered in her sleep. But then Lexa made a noise in her throat as if to clear it and Clarke knew she wasn’t asleep.

“Good morning,” the brunette croaked below her as quietly as she possibly could. This only made Clarke smile as she snuggled into her closer. She didn’t want the moment to end quite so soon because who knows when Lexa will stay in her bed again and hold her like this, and who knows when Clarke will feel this way again.

“Morning,” Clarke whispered, voice muffled into the skin of her neck. She didn’t miss the way Lexa tightened her loose hold on her, or the fact that another shiver shifted easily through the girl’s body. Clarke had an effect on Lexa that didn’t die with the brunette the first time and that fact… That fact made Clarke feel even lighter. Because Lexa came back loving her even when she couldn’t fully remember her, and it was like floating. This was _her_ Lexa, no matter what, always _her Lexa_.

“You asked me not to leave,” She explains quietly, growing stiff under the blonde who chuckled slightly and tightened her own grip on the girl below her. It seemed to calm the brunette almost immediately, and she melted under Clarke so easily, like they had been doing this every night since Lexa came home to her.

“You don’t have to explain.” Clarke sat up to look down and glossy green eyes that looked about as dazed as her own when she first woke up. Clarke reached out and brushed the girl’s cheekbone, pushing brown knotted curls behind her ear and smiling wider at the little red tint entering her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” Clarke whispers quietly, brushing her thumb back and forth, unable to part from her skin. She gets to do this, gets to wake up with Lexa, touch Lexa, love Lexa all over again. This isn’t a dream, this is real. Lexa is real.

“Why are you apologizing, you did not do anything wrong.” Lexa informs gently, voice still scratchy from sleep. Clarke kept brushing her thumb back and forth along the skin on her cheekbone, loving the way it feels to be able to touch her. Lexa only seemed to melt more below her, seeming to love that touch as much as Clarke, just in a different way. It felt lovely to her, to be loved this much even if she couldn’t return that feeling quite in the way that Clarke deserved.

“For waking you up last night, I… I have nightmares sometimes, but I usually don’t scream like that, at least, not anymore.” Clarke parted from the touch and moved to sit up some more. Lexa followed her. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” Clarke shrugged, and moved her gaze into her lap where she tangled her fingers together. She had been a mess all week in front of Lexa, but last night was a different kind of mess, a different kind of weakness she had revealed.

Lexa reached out and placed a palm over her hands gently, squeezing them in an attempt to comfort her. “Don’t be sorry.” She whispers quietly. “You have nothing to apologize for.” Lexa tips Clarke’s chin so blue eyes can meet green. “You need to stop feeling sorry for things that aren’t your fault or you have no control over.” Lexa smiled at her lightly. “Besides, I haven’t actually just dreamed until last night, so I should be thanking you.” Clarke’s brows furrowed.

“You don’t dream?” She questions curiously as Lexa chuckles lightly.

“Not normally, sometimes I get memory flashes, but otherwise when I sleep I don’t dream or see anything at all. But I did last night after I fell asleep holding you.” Lexa’s smile is bright and it reminds her of the one she saw on her face the first time they had fallen into bed together. As much as it hurts to see, it feels like it heals a piece of Clarke that had been broken and breaking for so long.

“Perhaps it’s just this bed. It used to be yours.” Clarke informs her, running her fingers over the furs. “You can sleep in it from now on if you want. I can take the other room.” Clarke shrugs noticing the way Lexa’s smile falters and turns into a frown.

“I’m sure my dreaming has nothing to do with a bed, Clarke.” She says as if the idea is ridiculous. If Clarke was honest, Lexa dreaming because of her felt ridiculous or too sweet to be true.

“I’m serious Lexa, maybe you should stay in here, maybe it’ll help you…” Clarke bit her lip, unsure at first, but deciding that she’ll say it anyway. “Maybe it’ll help you remember, not just the bad things but…” Clarke ran her hands over the furs of the bed again, images of a moment with Lexa she’ll never forget running through her mind as she does so. “Good things happened here too.” She whispers quietly, keeping her gaze away from Lexa like she’ll see exactly what she’s talking about if they meet eyes again. Lexa could always read her so well, know what she was thinking before she ever even said anything. She could probably still do that; she was always so good at it.

“Really,” Lexa teased and when Clarke met her gaze Lexa was wiggling her eyebrows at her, and it made Clarke blush and laugh. Actually laugh, again like she had that first night, just like that, full of lightness and happiness and Lexa mumbled again how beautiful that sound was and it only made Clarke feel even lighter.

“What time is it?” Clarke asked more to herself then to Lexa, who as well was just as clueless about it. It was so bright outside, the sun was too far in the sky for it to be early morning, and so she was going to take a guess around somewhere close to afternoon. How different, who knew that Lexa sleeping beside her could not only tame her nightmare, but have her rest peacefully for the proper amount of hours for sleep.

“You have to go don’t you?” Lexa asks softly, another observation. Her head is tilted slightly to the left, and her curly brown hair is a messy pile around her. Clarke can only stare at her a moment and she thinks that she hasn’t seen anything more beautiful than this.

“I do. But I’ll be back tonight as always. The trials are almost finished, you can come to one if you’d like?” Clarke asks hesitantly. Clarke doesn’t want to keep her locked up in the tower, but most of Polis is still unaware of their former heda’s return, and Clarke, while Lexa is vulnerable, doesn’t want to think of what their reactions may be.

“I would actually like to see how you do things, Clarke.” Lexa shuffled fingers through the knots in her hair, wincing slightly as they caught on a particular strand. Clarke only smiled after her, admiring what she is able to witness, what she has been given the chance to experience once again.

The natural leader in Lexa would of course want to know how Clarke runs things, so the answer is no surprise. “I figured you would.” The blonde teases lightly, bumping into the girl beside her playfully.

Lexa stares after her with a grin. “I suppose I’ll have to wear a disguise like I did before?” She questions easily. Clarke replies with a simple nod.

“Yes, but not today.” Clarke pushes herself from the bed and stretches. “The last trial is Monday, you can come with me then, all… dressed up and disguised.” Clarke’s voice was lighter than it had been in ages. It almost sounded unfamiliar to her. She wasn’t even aware that she could sound this untroubled. Even with her normal duties and Lexa’s memories, she sounded more at ease then she had in a long, long time.

Perhaps it was the proper amount of rest that did it for her. “Alright, I shall leave you to get ready then.” Lexa fumbled up from the bed ungracefully, and it was rather cute for Clarke to see. This Lexa, ungraceful and sloppy, wasn’t one that she had gotten to experience much of. A piece of her strongly hopes it will stay as Lexa remembers who she is. It’s about one of the cutest things she’s ever seen.

“You can sleep some more Lex, if you need too. I’m going to bathe, and I’ll be quiet.” Clarke brushes her fingers along the fur that covered the bed as Lexa stares down at it before slowly following Clarke’s movements.

“I-” Lexa moved her lips as if to protest, but then her body was flopping back down on the bed like she had never once lived in a separate location. She was shuffling under blankets when she finally met Clarke’s admiring blue gaze that hadn’t left her since she had stood up. “Have a good day, Clarke.” Lexa encourages, with a slight shy smile to her pretty pink lips. Clarke follows the tilt made at the corner of her mouth and feels a strong desire to reach over and kiss her. She ignores it for Lexa’s sake, and returns to Lexa’s greens, meeting her gaze briefly before turning for the hallway that leads toward her connected bathroom.

“You as well, Lexa.” Clarke calls behind her, and smiles as she hears a slight huff and the ruffle of covers before Lexa completely settled down. She carried on to the bathroom, took her bath slowly, relaxing in the water and smiling at the way she had woken up, the new memory she could keep replaying it in her head without it hurting for the first time.

When she was done she brushed off the mess knowing she had maids to clean it for her and wrapped a towel around herself before making her way back into the room. Her eyes instantly moved to Lexa, checking she was still there, and smiling when she was. Her eyes shut, nose buried back into the pillow next to her, cuddled up in fur blankets that used to belong to her. Clarke’s heart was swelling again, growing three sizes too large.

She was too lost in her daze that she actually jumped when Lexa’s eyes shot open to meet her own stare. “Did you have a nice bath?” Lexa asked lightly, eyes moving from her face to slowly make their way down Clarke’s towel cladded body. She knew that look, the one surfacing on the brunettes face. The dark dilated gaze, familiar and hungry and never being sated because Clarke used to ignore it just as she was going to ignore it now, for the both of them.

She padded her way across the room toward her wardrobe, shivering just slightly at the breeze in the room and the knowledge that Lexa was following her movements, and pulled one door open. The fire was set in her when she turned back around and saw Lexa standing again, eyes still roaming her body rather than her face, and it took all of Clarke’s strength to look indifferent and clear her throat.

Lexa’s eyes finally came back up to meet her own. “You are beautiful.” Lexa says softly, but she keeps her distance. Her eyes admire, dilate, long, but she remains a good five feet away from Clarke, hands clasped behind her back as if there is no other place for them but there. The action is so Lexa that Clarke actually bolts forward toward her.

She stops, two feet away. “Would you like a bath as well, Lexa?” She didn’t mean for her voice to sound like that, low and husky. She honestly didn’t mean for it to, it just came out that way. Lexa may be struggling but so was Clarke. All Clarke had wanted to do since seeing her again was hold her and cry and love her as much as possible, but she’s had to keep herself under control the best she can, be strong like she always has to do. Lexa looking at her in such a _Lexa_ way was harder to resist then she had estimated it to be. She honestly should have known that it would be.

Lexa gulped, the way she always did when Clarke entered her personal bubble. Her eyes grew darker, just as they always did. Clarke is sure if her hands weren’t clasp so tightly behind her back they’d be shaking, because these actions are how Lexa’s body reacts to Clarke. They always have been, it’s all familiar, and maybe that’s why Clarke backs off. What’s familiar is scary, whether or not she wants to love Lexa as much as possible isn’t the point when it comes to how afraid these facts make her. Losing Lexa once was like losing a large chunk of herself, and now she was getting it back but it felt too good to be true, to surreal, to fantasy.

She wanted answers that she knew Lexa couldn’t give her, so she backed off. She’d have to go snooping, who knows where, but snooping she’ll go. There has to be a reason that Lexa was brought back to life after her body having been burned and her spirit having been put to rest with the city of light. Clarke had to figure out how it was even possible for her to be standing in the same room as her, let alone the same air vicinity.

“I’ll get a maid to help before I leave.” Clarke pulls out some clothes, prepared to ready her armor after she slips the materials on and takes large steps away from Lexa, who is still watching her as she shuffles across the room.

“Clarke,” She whispers, voice quiet, laced with something sweet, vulnerable. It makes Clarke turn around to look at her, to see that her hands are now clasped in front of her, fingers entwined with each other, feet shuffling along the floor below her. It was cute, it wasn’t much like Lexa, or a side that Clarke had seen anyway, but still cute.

“Lexa?” Clarke quips lightly, shuffling the towel off and pulling on garment after garment. Lexa isn’t watching her, and when the brunette does look up, she’s already clad in black materials that were once upon a time, Lexa’s.

“Do you like me…?” Lexa clears her throat, as if she thinks that’s a dumb question, Clarke almost agrees with her. “I mean me now? This me?” Her fingers twist in there hold, and the smile that appears on Clarke’s face is another one full of admiration. How can she be this adorable? How is that possible? She wonders if Lexa before would also be this embarrassed to ask such a question? A part of her thinks yes, yes she definitely would.

“Lexa,” Clarke shuffles across the floor until she’s standing in front of the brunette again. “You’re the same Lexa, no matter what you remember. I’m just discovering different sides to you. But you’re always going to be Lexa. Whatever version, whatever you feel, I will always like you exactly for who you are.” Clarke reaches out and pries Lexa’s fingers apart so she can take one hand into her own. “And I promise you, everyone else that knows you feels just the same.” She squeezes the girl’s hand, playing with her fingers slightly as the brunette bites down on her lower lip.

She nods, cheeks slightly tinted. “Sometimes, you just…” Lexa looks down. “You seem disappointed, and I don’t want to disappoint you. I have a feeling I’ve done that before.” Lexa sighs lightly, brushing against Clarke’s fingers but not placing much pressure there.

At Lexa’s words, Clarke’s heart races and her eyes light up. “You remember me? I mean, a little bit at least, a little from before?” Clarke asks excitedly, causing a sad smile to appear at the corner of Lexa’s mouth.

“I just remember that I had upset you, and you were disappointed in me and feeling like it was one of the worst things in the world. I don’t want to disappoint you, Clarke.” Lexa furthers as Clarke shakes her head, aware that her eyes were watering again.

She blanches forward, pulling Lexa into her arms and holding her close even as the girl stiffens. Eventually she melts and softens in her embrace. It’s sweet, gentle. “I promise Lexa, that nothing you could do right now, will ever disappoint me.” And she wants to finish the statement with three little words that she never really got to say to her, but she know she shouldn’t, that she can’t while Lexa doesn’t completely feel the same way, even if a small piece of her heart remembers that it does, her brain does not. Clarke wants her aware of this feeling before she says it to her. The second she is, Clarke will say it again, and again, and again, until Lexa would literally rather be deaf then hear it again.

She pulls back from her, smiling from ear to ear. Apparently it was contagious, because Lexa mimicked her smile. “I have to go, but I’ll be back tonight for dinner.” She shuffles fingers through knotted hair, leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the taller girl’s cheek, the warm feeling in her stomach spreading through the rest of her body with the action.

Her smile remained throughout the afternoon, even as the stress got to her. Clarke Griffin, for the first time in months, could actually be described as happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so when it comes to this fic I really want to get it right. I'm excited about it, so chapters take a little time because I feel the need to work on them until I absolutely hate the chapter.
> 
> Anyways, I realize in this I didn't answer a lot of questions, but I thought it would be okay anyways just kind of showing how Clarke is handling Lexa, and how she sees Lexa handling her memories as well.  
> I love Clarke's character in general, and I love writing for her, and I love writing dialogue where someone finally tells her that she's doing enough and shouldn't say sorry for things that aren't her fault, so that was important for me to add.
> 
> I hope you liked it. :)  
> I don't know when Chapter Six will be up, but I don't think it'll be nearly a month, at least, I hope not. :)  
> Thanks for reading, and all the comments and kudos you guys give. Really appreciate it. Thanks so much <3


	6. Safe and Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and Clarke have more fluffy moments,  
> Lexa goes to her first trial,  
> we learn something very, very important about Lexa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter is shorter than the others but I'm not sure. I had a little trouble writing it, that's why it took so long. Anyways, its here now, I hope you like it.  
> Hopefully the next one won't take as long but I say that every time don't I. ;)
> 
> Okay, go read, I'm done talking.

Lexa was excited for Monday. She was excited to finally leave the tower and the grounds around the tower for the first time since arriving. As much as she loved the training grounds and learning different things in the kitchen, she greatly missed the trees. It wasn’t the same just looking at them from the tower. She missed running through them from village to village. She missed the peaceful walks they provided. Which is funny to Lexa because she thought she’d never miss the trees, especially after waking up all alone and clueless in them.

It’s not that she’s been deprived of social contact. The maids and guards and ambassadors of Polis that knew of her current state talked to her often. They gave her things and told her stories about her old self; none were ever as good as Gus’s stories though. She’d always shake that thought off and listen anyways.

Over the weekend Clarke had been too busy, but she always returned for dinner and instead of sleeping in another room like she had said she would do, she slept on the couch in her – Lexa’s room. Lexa much preferred that arrangement. It was odd how much she didn’t want to be alone, but when she thought about it, it wasn’t really that she didn’t want to be alone; it was more that she didn’t want to be without Clarke.

Clarke helped her sleep, helped her dream. Clarke made her comfortable when she wasn’t at all, and though a piece of her is highly afraid of Clarke. A stronger part, probably the part that remembers Clarke but won’t focus for some reason, has come to terms with these feelings for Clarke, has embraced them. Lexa figures it’s all easier on her that her subconscious remembers things and people more than her brain does. It’s not as confusing as it sounds, it almost feels like a super power when she’s cooking and suddenly she knows exactly what to do with the complicated dish without being told. That was always Lexa’s favorite.

Lexa much preferred all of that over her real memories. The life she had before this one wasn’t very good, or happy. There weren’t a lot of moments at all that Lexa could say she was actually happy in. Only a few, one with Anya, one with Costia, a couple with Indra. There were some others but none were significant or really could count as a moment that made Lexa truly happy. Lexa was starting to think that she had lived a life of pure misery. Lexa was happier now, with less weight on her shoulders and less memory and some days she fought remembering just so she could stay this calm. Once she remembers something she always hurts the rest of the day, her body, her soul, and she hates it. She hates remembering.

It scares Clarke. Lexa really hates scaring Clarke. She seems so strong but fragile all at the same time. Lexa just wants to protect her. She wonders how much Clarke has been through, outside of losing Lexa, who else has she lost, what else has she lost? Is her life as full of misery as Lexa’s seems to be? She wants to talk to her about her life, but she doesn’t feel like Clarke’s quite prepared for that conversation right now.

Lexa is ready by the time Clarke comes through the front doors of the Polis tower. The blonde even looks at her in that amused way she does sometimes like when she sees Lexa eat or listens to her talk about the kids she trains with sometimes. Lexa had been pacing when she finally entered and abruptly stopped upon seeing her. She stood up straighter and met Clarke’s blue eyes, feeling comfortable with the way her gaze spread warmth through Lexa that almost made her smile.

“I see you’re ready.” Clarke teased lightly, tipping her head to one side while she crossed her arms along her chest. She had that smile on her lips, that little one that she gave Lexa sometimes, full of adoration and amusement and Lexa almost smiled in return to it. She loved it when Clarke looked at her like that. If Lexa had to define happiness, she’d say it was that smile.

“We can go now?” Lexa asks trying to maintain her eagerness. Of course she was ready. She had been waiting for this all weekend, a chance to get away from the tower, a chance to see what Clarke leaves every day to go oversee. She wanted to see the people, see if they were any different from the ones in the outer villages. She hadn’t really gotten the chance to look when she was dragged here, tied up and gagged. The memory makes her shiver and a small shot of satisfaction surfaces through at the fact that today is the last trial and the person on it is the same person that had tied her up like that. She knew Clarke would bring justice. It just seemed in the blonde’s nature.

“Yes Lexa, we can go now.” Clarke teased lightly, stepping closer to her and tugging the green cloth from Lexa’s hands that she had been twisting up in the process of waiting. “Let me help you with this. I promise you won’t have to hide forever. Just tell you remember.” Clarke’s fingers graze Lexa’s cheek as she helps wrap the green cloth around Lexa’s face, and the brunette swears she can feel the touch everywhere.

It was always like this when Clarke touches her, the way she looks at her makes everything worse. Eyes so gentle and focused like Lexa is the most fragile and beautiful thing in the world. It made Lexa feel safe and warm. “What if I never remember Clarke?” She asks softly, the question bubbling up without her permission. Clarke stops a moment, but then trudges on, pace slow and loving just the same as before.

The light in her eyes leaves a little and Lexa internally slaps herself for causing it. But soon the light is returning and the edges of Clarke’s lips quirk up. “Then we’ll just have to wait tell you’re ready to tell people.” Clarke finishes the cloth and her smile increases as she backs away from Lexa slightly. “You look like a hot bandit.” Clarke mumbles, that amused smile growing.

A bubble of laughter leaves Lexa and she feels warm all over again. “I promise I will not rob you.” Lexa mumbles back, her smile hidden behind the cloth, but she’s sure Clarke can see it in her eyes.

The blonde’s smirk grows devious. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.” And then she winks and it sets something off in Lexa that makes her heart race and her body shiver. It’s a familiar craving she’s been having lately, to pull Clarke toward her and just kiss her until she can’t breathe anymore, maybe even longer than that. She knows she can’t do it, knows it’s a feeling she constantly has to fight. It’s not fair to Clarke; it’s not fair to her.

If she never remembers then she never remembers. She’ll just have to figure out a way to make Clarke fall in love with her now. As hard as that sounds, she hopes she can do it. There is no one else Lexa wants more than she wants Clarke, and she wonders if she had felt this way before she had died that first time. A big part of her tells her she did.

“Let’s go.” Clarke grabs her hand and entwines their fingers to pull her forward toward the tower doors. There’s a carriage when they get out and Lexa is momentarily surprised by how civilian it looks. Clarke was the commander after all; Clarke had plenty of fancy things compared to the outer villages. She expected her carriage to be just the same. But it was relatively normal, ones Lexa saw often in the bigger villages. She liked it, she liked that it was normal. The guards opened the door for the both of them, each of them bidding Lexa a good luck and Clarke a respectful nod before shutting the door. The carriage moved as soon as Lexa sat down and she took in a breath at the sudden jolt.

Lexa found Clarke watching her when she turned her gaze to the blonde. The look on her face was just as affectionate and amused as before and Lexa again filled with more warmth at the sight. She could even describe her heart swelling. It wasn’t possible to fall in love with someone in a week was it?

Perhaps love was a kind of feeling you couldn’t forget, even if you couldn’t remember the moments that led to it. Perhaps love was a feeling that was embedded in every part of you, impossible to not exist in every way. Lexa fought off the thoughts, too deep for what she was preparing to do now, though she’s aware she can’t fight off her growing affection for the bright eyed blonde beside her, who’s hand still held hers’ so affectionately.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you so I’m making sure we’ll sit high up, away from the crowd and the judges to watch. We’ll have guards too, and then after it’s over I thought we could go for a walk or something. I’m sure you want to look around.” Clarke brushes her thumb along Lexa’s knuckles and smiles when the brunette’s grip tightens slightly.

“Do you just watch Clarke?” Lexa asks curiously, holding onto the seat of the carriage as they go over a particularly rough bump.

Clarke’s smile grows. “I oversee mostly, yes. But I’m there to keep things in check and make sure things run smoothly and fairly. Back when I first implemented this system, I had to step in a lot. As you’ve heard, the old grounder ways were kind of… rough. So compromising was a bit difficult.” Clarke’s thumb continued to move along Lexa’s knuckles in a comforting motion, but Lexa wasn’t sure if that was for her or for Clarke. She expected maybe it was for the both of them.

“Would I have been happy with the way things are now?” Lexa challenges, nearly surprising herself. It didn’t seem to surprise the blonde though, who tipped her head back releasing a clap of laughter that made Lexa’s heart race and her smile grow without her permission. Clarke’s laugh really was the most beautiful thing Lexa had ever heard.

“What an excellent question.” Clarke squeezed her palm approvingly, eyes shining as she met Lexa’s gaze. “I’m sure you’d be frustrated with a few things. You’d have your say about a lot that’s for sure. If you ever remember you’ll bring today up and probably fight with me about some stuff.” The blonde just kept smiling, even as Lexa knit her eyebrows together in deep thought. “You always saw something in me though, you wouldn’t be too unhappy. I think you’d be proud of me. I haven’t erased anything really, just improved things. I think you’d be mostly proud.” Clarke decides this now, with a firm nod of her head, letting her blue gaze sadden slightly as it wandered out the window of the carriage.

Lexa’s heart plummeted toward her stomach at the sight and she brought her free hand to Clarke’s chin to grip lightly and turns her gaze back to her. When Clarke was looking at her she shuffled her fingers along her cheekbone and through soft blonde hair before smiling at her lightly and saying, “I’m proud of you now.” Lexa didn’t know if that was the right thing to do or not, but it’s something she wanted to say, and the smile that locked onto Clarke’s lips as Lexa said it told her that she hadn’t made a bad decision.

“Lexa,” Clarke’s gaze watered, yet again, and instead of telling Clarke not to cry, Lexa just pulled the blonde toward her. She wrapped her arms tightly around her in the warmest embrace she thought she could.  The blonde sniffed and buried her nose in the crook of Lexa’s neck, wrapping her own arms around Lexa to pull her even closer until there was no room between the two. “It’s okay if you never remember Lexa.” Clarke mumbles into her neck. “I still care about you just the same way.” Clarke’s arms tightened and Lexa felt herself smiling at the blonde’s words.

She isn’t sure why she says what she says next, maybe because she really does want to remember every part of Clarke that she had known before. Maybe because relearning it and remembering what she had learned the first time would all be different, either way, the only reason Lexa decided in that moment that remembering wouldn’t be that bad is because it’s Clarke, and Clarke is special. “May I remember you,” She whispers into blonde hair, pressing a lightly kiss there as the blonde mumbles something unintelligible into her neck.

Lexa is content and completely disappointed when the carriage stops and Clarke pulls away. She’d do just fine to stay wrapped up with Clarke forever, holding her or being held by her. There’s nothing in the world that makes her feel safer than she is when she’s laying so close to the blonde.

Guards are quick to meet them when they finally exit the carriage. Lexa can tell some of these guards are skaikru by the guns in their hands, and she’d never admit it, but those items made her a little nervous. Most of the guns were big, to intimidating for Lexa to even want to be near, so she kept close to Clarke, trying to avoid the suspicious stares the guards sent her way and the way they seemed to hold their guns even tighter, like she was some kind of threat. She was uncomfortable to say the least, but she did her best to hide it. After all, Leksa would never let it anyone see that kind of weakness.

“You okay,” Clarke mutters lowly next to her so only Lexa can hear. The brunette just simply nods at her, and the little tips of Clarke’s lips turn up in satisfaction. Lexa longs to hold Clarke’s hand again but she’s sure that, that kind of action would be too telling for their kind of environment, so instead she just walks close enough that their shoulders brush.

They meet a few guards near the steps to where Lexa and Clarke will be seated to oversee the trial, and Lexa is surprised when she hugs one of them. He’s a tall guy with a skaikru suit on. He isn’t holding a gun in his hand but Lexa can see one in his holster, a pistol probably, something about it makes her shiver unpleasantly. Lexa vaguely hears Clarke call him “Miller” and she assures him her guest (Lexa) is not a threat.

He nods stiffly at Lexa as she passes him, and when he presses a hand to the handle of his gun, that unpleasant shiver turns into a twisting of her stomach. She looks only at Clarke after that, because she’s sure if she doesn’t she may throw up. Clarke makes a dramatic motion with her hands when they reach their seat that makes Lexa giggle slightly, before Clarke is taking her own seat right next to her. They are the first two there but eventually a girl called Raven arrives along with Indra and a man named Kane.

“You’re mother had to stay back at Arkadia with Jake.” He explains shortly before his eyes land on Lexa who stares at him a moment before breaking all contact and looking below her at “the courtroom”. “And who’s this?” Kane asks, his eyes twinkle, a friendly smile stretching along his face. It’s the nicest that Lexa has been greeted since leaving the tower, and it makes the twist in her stomach ease a little.

“This is my guest; she’s going to oversee with me today.” Clarke says confidently, a light grin is still present on her face and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the two skaikru there.

“Why are you grinning?” Raven mutters. “Is this your new chick?” Lexa meets eyes with the girl a couple seats away from them and they just stare at each other a moment. The girls face scrunches up like she’s trying to think and then her eyes light up and she puckers her lips like she’s about to blurt it out but Clarke is talking before she can and it makes the brunette huff in her seat.

Lexa feels a smile tug at her lips. “She is no threat; she’s just here to see how we do things. She’s reserved so she’d like to keep to herself alright?” Clarke lets her eyes travel between both Kane and Raven until they give her an approving nod, but Raven is still looking over at them suspiciously, like she has something big to say. Lexa supposes Raven is another person she knew but cannot remember, as are most of the skaikru.

“When does this trial start?” Lexa asks quietly next to Clarke’s ear. Clarke’s grin grows wide for some reason and when her twinkling eyes turn toward Lexa’s, the brunette can feel her own smile being forced to widen at the sight. She’s slightly satisfied that such an action is hidden by the green cloth on her face, feeling as if a smile is too much for the strangers she is surrounded by.

“Ready to leave already?” Clarke teases lightly, her grin firm and beautiful. Lexa stares at her mouth a moment, that urge rises yet again, to rip the cloth from her face and cover Clarke’s mouth with her own. She wonders if its normal to feel this way about someone.

“I do not like the guns.” Lexa admits quietly, too quietly for anyone but Clarke to hear. She allows her green gaze to travel from Clarke’s lips back to her blues again and feels a slight comfort when looking into them.

A flash of emotion crosses Clarke’s features, the kind that makes Lexa regret what she’s said even though she isn’t quite sure why she should. Maybe Lexa shouldn’t tell Clarke of her fears; maybe it makes her worry too much.

“I know it’s kind of a lot. I’ll see what I can do about that okay. Don’t worry; I won’t let anything happen to you.” Clarke’s hand reaches for Lexa’s gloved one and she grips it firmly and squeezes it comfortingly. Lexa figures the squeeze is more for Clarke, with the way the blonde’s brows have furrowed, so she doesn’t worry about their environment and just lets Clarke hold her hand until she decides to let go.

Indra is beside Lexa the next moment, she pats her shoulder to grab her attention and gives her a slow nod for a hello that Lexa returns, a comforting feeling rising in her chest to wash away some of the stress that had started taking her over. Indra then lets her gaze leave Lexa’s to look upon the scenery below them as she stands beside Lexa’s chair.

The trial is long, but Lexa pays full attention to every detail. She thinks part of its tedious and exaggerated. She doesn’t understand why they have to go through such a long process when the man has clearly done wrong. When she brings up her concerns to Clarke, Clarke insists that it’s to help things be fair. Clarke explains as much as she can to Lexa throughout the whole thing. She asks plenty of questions and pays such close attention to everything that Clarke slightly struggles to keep up with her. When the trial ends with the man’s guilty sentence, Lexa is surprised that he is to be imprisoned rather than killed. Lexa supposes that is better, fair, and more peaceful than the old ways, though part of her feels unsatisfied by the sentence.

“I know it’s long and boring, but its fair.” Clarke says after they are standing again. Lexa nods and goes to respond but is interrupted by the dark haired girl from earlier, Raven. She pulls Clarke to the side to speak to her heatedly and Lexa feels she should probably let them talk alone. When she turns she finds Indra staring after her and a small smile tugs to her lips even though she knows Indra can’t see it through the cloth.

 _“What is your opinion on this new system?”_ Indra’s voice is strong and stiff as it normally is, but there’s a gentleness to it that makes Lexa feel comfortable.

 _“I’m not quite sure yet. It seems a little tedious but I can see how it works.”_ Lexa stands up straighter naturally, crossing her arms along her chest. _“I do not see what the need is for all these guns though.”_ Lexa adds, eyes gazing down below her toward the courtroom and where the majority of the guards stand with their weapons. They are stiff and angry. She wonders how they can be trusted with such a dangerous weapon so easily.

 _“Perhaps you should bring such a fact up with Wanheda, I think she still has a lot to learn.”_ Lexa allows her eyes to meet Indra’s again and feels herself nod in response.

 _“I suppose Wanheda and I have a lot to learn from each other.”_ Lexa adds. She feels a small sense of belonging, like she’s meant to be here, having a conversation like this.

 _“Some things never do change do they, Leksa?”_ Indra teases lightly, a small satisfied smile attaching to her lips. Lexa feels a returning one on her own lips and yet again nods in response to Indra.

After Clarke has finished conversing with Raven she is right beside Lexa again. She acknowledges Indra politely before muttering in Lexa’s ear that she has a meeting to attend and that she can have Indra take her back to the tower or join her. “I’m sorry, I know I said we’d walk after,” she says with a guilty small smile attaching to her lips as she tips her head to the right while she looks at Lexa.

Lexa offers a returning soft smile. “I would like to join your meeting; there is plenty of time for a walk later.” She holds her hands behind her back in an attempt to keep them from touching Clarke’s face.

“Alright, the meetings are always boring, just a fair warning.” She teases lightly.

“Tired of me already?” Lexa offers back, hoping the cork of her eyebrow is enough to signify her own teasing smirk.

A chuckle escapes Clarke’s lips. “I don’t think I could ever,” She offers lightly and trails a hand down Lexa’s left arm.

Lexa shivers. “Perhaps we both could just skip the meeting?” Lexa offers suggestively, surprising herself she supposes more than she seems to surprise Clarke.

“As tempting as you make that sound, you and I both know what responsibilities are held over a commander’s head.” Clarke squeezes her upper arm. “Follow me and stay close.” Clarke passes by Lexa and motions for Indra to follow her as well.

Lexa feels a sigh escape her before she can stop it.

Clarke is led into a room by what seems to be skaikru guards and Lexa follows along behind Clarke who is chatting animatedly with Raven on their way there. Raven continues to give Lexa knowing looks and it doesn’t take long for her to catch on that Raven knows who she is. Lexa isn’t quite sure if she likes Raven or not. She walks alongside Kane who tries to make conversation with her, but she shuts him down with simple nods and short one worded answers. He eventually gets the point and walks quietly next to her. She decides she likes Kane. Indra had gone off ahead of them to get to the room earlier, something about an emergency that she didn’t hear enough about to really know what was happening. Clarke seemed untroubled, so Lexa worried little about it.

When they finally enter the room Indra is in a heated discussion with another grounder who says that the old ways would have been faster, more efficient, and more effective. There is another guard, a skaikru, on the ground being treated for a leg wound that looks fresh.

 _“Lexa’s fight did not end for you to go against her wishes.”_ Indra is angry, her stance strong. She only stops arguing with the grounder when they enter, acknowledging Clarke with a curt nod of her head and a “Heda,”

Her eyes find Lexa and she offers her a nod as well that the brunette returns.

The room is quiet, though argument and discussion had been frequent amongst them before Clarke had entered. The skaikru guy, named Miller is standing at the edge of a table, his pistol out of his holster. The injured guy on the ground groans in pain when the nurse dabs medicine onto his wound and it makes Lexa jump slightly.

 Lexa doesn’t like that three out of the five guards in the room have guns out. She doesn’t like that all the guards seem on edge and the skaikru seem to be on the defense when not much is needed. She’s grabbing Clarke’s wrist before she can stop herself, and though the blonde is gentle when she turns around, the guards are not and make a sudden jolt toward the pair.

Miller’s reaction is to aim his gun and point it in the direction of the threat.

The memory it triggers is instant. Lexa’s brain does not ease her into it. Her surroundings change and suddenly a loud sound of a gun being shot is filling the air in a room that looks like one of the guest rooms in the Polis tower.

Lexa feels it; she’s a part of it. She feels the pain in every place of her body as she collapses down and Clarke is grabbing her. She can’t hear what Clarke is yelling but she can see her cry, can feel her shake as she holds her. The memory is fairly unpleasant and it hurts to say the least. When it ends with her on the bed and a bald man standing over her, promising to never harm Clarke again, it takes her a long time to adjust to the present. Everyone in the room is staring, and once she is aware of the gun still in the man’s hand, a yelp escapes her throat and she clings to Clarke who is already holding her on the ground. She can still feel the pain, can still feel Clarke shake as she tries to save her. The twist in her gut from much earlier feels worse than ever, and all she wants to do is cower.

It’s probably the first time Lexa has ever been this terrified of anything other than the thought of losing Clarke. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Clarke coos, caressing her hair and pulling her closer.

Lexa burrows into Clarke as much as she can, looking for some kind of safety, half in a memory and half in reality, but she doesn’t feel safe at all. She just feels the pain, and all of the guns that surround her and she’s scared, actually scared. Her breathing has increased now and she can’t think about much else but being afraid and she hates that she can’t control herself, control the way she clings to Clarke, and control the weakness that is taking over her in this moment. Leksa would never react so weak in front of people, especially people that once looked up to her that she once led.

“The guns Clarke please the guns,” She whispers desperately. The hold on her gets more protective, tight and firm and Lexa can hear the rumble of Clarke’s voice as she speaks.

“I want everyone with a gun to leave the premises immediately.” Indra is persistent in the sudden command, and starts shouting about ill-mannered skaikru in trigedasleng that almost makes Lexa laugh. She would laugh if she wasn’t still dazed and afraid.

Clarke keeps her arms around her and Lexa feel the exhaustion a new memory normally causes taking over her, except this one is so much more weight than any of the others ever have been before.

“Clarke,” She mumbles in her neck only to be shushed by the blonde softly.

“I promise, you’re safe.” Clarke presses a kiss to her hair gently and Lexa can feel her body slump into Clarke’s even though she’s trying hard to fight off her exhaustion. “I won’t ever let anything happen to you. I promise. I’m going to keep you safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” Clarke’s fingers are tangling in Lexa’s hair and she can’t fight the exhaustion anymore because everything Clarke is doing is putting her to sleep.

The last thing she hears is Raven shouting. “I KNEW IT WAS LEXA!” Perhaps she would have laughed at that as well, if she could.

 

 

Clarke was two hours into her normal four hours of sleep when a terrified scream ripped through the air in her room. Clarke had awoken instantly as the sound reached her ears, interrupting her dream. She was bolt upright on the couch when another scream came, and she was off of the couch and across the room faster than she could even blink.

Clarke’s heart hammered in her ribcage, fear blinding her. But she relaxed when she saw a figure alone in the bed, curled against herself, eyes tightly closed, and whimpers escaping her. The guards had entered a second later, but Clarke quickly dismissed them. Clarke reached for Lexa and shook her awake immediately, green eyes were watery and bloodshot, and a few candles stayed lit by her bed.

Her heart was still hammering against her ribcage, but her breathing was back to normal, and the pure adrenaline that had started coursing through her veins seemed to subside when she saw that Lexa wasn’t being attacked. “Clarke,” Lexa voice cracked, she sounded terrified, but different than she had earlier in the meeting room.

Clarke sat on the edge of the bed next to Lexa who instantly clung to her, curling against her side and burying her face in Clarke’s neck, her arms coming around Clarke’s middle to keep her close.

Clarke was surprised at the sudden affection. She knows Lexa usually liked subtle touches, but she normally kept her distance. Earlier had been something else, she wasn’t expecting it again. In fact, two terrible memories seemed a little much for one girl in one day. Clarke hoped it was only a bad dream this time, because that’s something she knew how to soothe, something she could easily relate too.

“What’s wrong Lex?” Clarke whispers against her hair. Clarke’s arms came around her and held her in the most comforting way Clarke thought she could. She could feel tears stain her skin, and it only made Clarke tighten her grip on the brunette in her arms. Each time Clarke sees Lexa cry its overwhelming in its own way. “What happened, Lexa?” Clarke tries again, voice at a whisper, gentle and calm as the girl’s body trembled against her.

She felt a tug in her heart as the girl beside her clings to her, appearing much smaller than she actually was in this moment. “Another memory, Clarke,” Her voice was small, muffled against her neck. Warm puffs of air hit her skin, causing a shiver to run down her spine. She didn’t worry much about Lexa noticing. “An awful memory.” Lexa tries to curl into her further, so Clarke tightens her hold even more. Lexa is still trembling. Her voice is hoarse and hurt and it makes Clarke ache because she can’t protect her from her own memories. She can’t protect her from hurt that’s already happened. She is helpless in this situation, unaware of the right thing to say or do besides hold her.

She can’t make it go away, she can’t make it better, there’s nothing she can say to make it hurt less. All she can do is be here, and Clarke just doesn’t feel like that’s enough. “Do you want to tell me about it sweetie?” Clarke strokes brown curls back, runs the strands through her fingers comfortingly, and it seems to help because Lexa trembles even less. She breathes against Clarke’s skin, tears still spilling against her collarbone.

Her voice is weak. “You remember when you told me about Costia, Clarke?” And Lexa doesn’t have to say anything else, because Clarke knows. Clarke understands, and she wraps her arms tightly around Lexa again, pressing her lips to the top of her head. Lexa eventually crawls into her lap and Clarke holds her tell she falls back asleep, no more words being necessary to exchange.

Eventually Clarke tucks her back in and heads back to the couch, but when she tries for sleep it doesn’t come.

How is she supposed to do this? How is she supposed to protect Lexa from the past? She can’t do that. All she wants is to keep her safe, is to make her happy. She can’t do anything against these memories, she’s helpless.

“Clarke,” Lexa’s voice his croaky but stronger this time, she’s calmed down and come to herself but Clarke wonders how these new memories will change her. Each memory always does, mixes her. She wonders how that’s going to work this time, with two horrible memories in one day.

“Lexa,” Clarke says from her place on the couch, eyes making shapes out of the ceiling wall. She has to think of an effective way to help Lexa with her memories. She’s not helping at all and it’s driving her crazy. All she wants is to keep Lexa safe, and it feels like she fails every time a new memory hits the brunette.

“This bed is big enough for both of us.” She mutters out through the quiet. Her voice is timid, and Clarke’s heart immediately picks up speed. Lexa is possibly the most adorable person she’s ever met.

“I suppose you’re right,” Clarke replies, but still doesn’t move.

Lexa’s response is slow, and for a while Clarke had begun to think she fell back asleep. “Come over here, you do not have to touch me if you don’t wish too.” Clarke feels herself chuckle in response and pulls herself up from the couch.

She glides over to the bed quicker than she expected herself too and is slipping under the covers beside Lexa, who has a light smile on her face. “Come here,” Clarke sighs as if she’s been defeated. She holds her arms open for the brunette who slumps onto Clarke almost immediately. Her head lies on her chest, and she releases a soft hum when Clarke’s fingers slide through her tangled brown hair.

“Thank you Clarke,” Lexa mumbles sleepily. Clarke stills her hand a moment.

“For what?” The blonde asks eyes back on the ceiling to discover the shapes engraved there.

“You make me feel safe.” She mumbles quietly, as if it’s a dark secret, and just speaking it out loud is dangerous.

Clarke can feel her heart begin to swell the same way it had when they were in the carriage earlier that day and Lexa had told her she was proud of her. It’s almost overwhelming, it makes Clarke’s eyes water, but she blinks back the tears and resumes stroking long curly tendrils of hair back the way that she knows Lexa likes.

She presses a kiss to her hair before shutting her eyes, a content feeling taking over her chest where her worry and stress had once been. Drifting off to sleep doesn’t take long, not when she’s got Lexa in her arms, safe and warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait, but I hoped you liked this chapter.  
> Basically, the point of this chapter is that Lexa's afraid of guns.
> 
> See you next chapter :D


	7. Versions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and Clarke grow closer,  
> Clarke worries over commander duties,  
> Lexa and Raven bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to everyone new to reading this and everyone who has been reading this. Let me start of with an apology, I lost so much inspiration for this fic that I let it drown for months. I apologize for not updating, I just couldn't write it. I just couldn't.
> 
> I completely understand if everyone that had been reading this is no longer reading this and I'm kind of talking to myself because I completely gave up on this. 
> 
> But I'm back, after searching hard for the inspiration and just because I miss Clarke, I really, really miss Clarke. I'm so sad the show is ruined because I miss Clarke so terribly much. This is the closest thing I get to her now, so I was able to find inspiration again for this and hopefully finish it. I've dished out a few more chapter so I hope you guys have stuck with it and will enjoy reading this even though I'm a terrible person and stopped writing it.
> 
> I do appreciate all of the comments and kudos you guys have given me for this, and I thank all the people that commented on this throughout my absent months letting me know how much they love this story and how much they miss it.
> 
> I apologize again for the terribly long wait, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

Lexa wakes up with a sense of relief to have Clarke’s arms around her. Most of her dreams had been full of vivid detail of Clarke either dying or of other gruesome things with no Clarke to be scene at all. She is unaware if any of them are memories, usually that’s easy to decipher but she’s finding it harder to figure out now that she dreams too. She sighs with content to know that Clarke is there in real life and that makes up for how she feels throughout all of her nightmarish dreams or memories.

She releases a heavy sigh; the sun is barely peaking up through the trees. The sky is tinted pink and purple and gold and Lexa can’t help but think how beautiful it truly is to wake up too. Clarke is fast asleep against her, breathing deeply in and out and she can hear just how steady her heart beat is with her ear pressed against the blonde girl’s chest. She wonders what she may be dreaming about; she wonders if they’re sweet or sad, she wonders if she is them. She blushes slightly at the fact that she hopes that she’s in them.

Her fingers slide up Clarke’s stomach along the shirt the blonde is wearing, and she traces the holes where her stomach is, careful not to touch much skin at this moment. She wonders why Clarke, as the commander, even has holes in her shirts. Clarke moves just slightly below her, mutters something in her sleep that is completely incomprehensible and Lexa ceases her movements only for a moment in hopes that she hadn’t woken the girl up. She doesn’t move her fingers against the holes in the shirt until Clarke is still again, resting quietly. She traces the skin this time, desperate to touch her, and feels Clarke quiver slightly to her light ministrations and she can’t help the grin that she feels cover her face because it’s nice to know that it isn’t only her body that reacts this way every time Clarke just slightly brushes her fingers against shoulder.

She sits up slightly, tilting her head so she can see Clarke’s face, untroubled and soft in the morning light. She looks young, so very young as she sleeps, resting with not even a knit to her brow. Lexa removes her hand from its place at her shirt and shifts her palm upward to touch the blonde commander’s jaw, touching lightly and smiling slightly as the girl sighs contentedly below her. She follows the curve of her jawline, watches the skin as her fingers move past it. She lets her fingers trace the shape of her ear, brushing blonde locks back to reveal the curve and she smiles as Clarke grumbles her name in her sleep.

_She is so beautiful._

She thinks that Clarke is the most beautiful thing on earth, perhaps, even in the entire universe. She has thought this way before, but something about this moment feels significant, and she knows it is because she gets flashes of times before now in her head, flashes of memories of Clarke being just as sweet, just as soft, looking just as beautiful when she sleeps, no matter where it is that she sleeps, whether it’s on the ground beside a fire, or on her couch. She is never filled with the same worries when she sleeps, at least when she sleeps peacefully that is. Lexa will never forget what it’s like to hear Clarke scream in terror like that, and she prays the only time she will hear it is when Clarke is having a nightmare.

_She looks so young._ Lexa thinks again as she pushes back blonde hair some more, just so she can feel the soft strands between her fingertips, brushing her skin and filling up her mind. She sucks in a breath as Clarke shifts slightly, her head turning a little so her breath puffs out against the skin on her arm and her lips touch her. It flips Lexa’s belly pleasantly and she feels it’s hard to breathe with each puff of air that hits her skin, so she pulls her arm away from Clarke’s beautiful hair, and watches untroubled eyelids flutter some more.

She’d much rather watch Clarke than any sunrise ever.

She knows there is reality beyond this bed they lie in. She knows there are matters for Clarke to attend too, and memories for Lexa to remember, memories that change her and shape her into someone new each time and she knows it’s hard on Clarke, she knows it is. She wishes that it wasn’t, she wishes this were easier for her, she wants to make it so, but she is unaware of how too. If she knew how she’d do it without hesitation because Clarke loves her, even though she withholds from saying those words out loud probably for Lexa’s sake. But Lexa knows how Clarke feels, it doesn’t really place a burden on her the way she thinks Clarke thinks it does. Most days it makes her feel better when she is terribly beat up from memories she hates.

But this very morning, waking up like this, to flashes of memories of Clarke, and to the image of her sleeping so peacefully sweet below her, is possibly the best way for her to open her eyes no matter how many troubles she has and will continue to face. Clarke makes her want to remember herself, she makes all of these hard memories, these ones that scare her and burn her and shape her into someone else worth it because she knows she is only becoming a better version of who she used to be and who she is today.

The past may hurt, and some days are certainly harder than others, but Clarke makes it worth it. So very worth it because if she can remember Clarke, if Clarke had loved her and she had loved Clarke, than her life before was never really that bad at all. Not if she was able to get a wonderful person like Clarke to love her.

“Just going to stare at me all morning?” Clarke croaks into the morning air and Lexa jumps because she was unaware of when Clarke had awoken, surely she hasn’t been awake this whole time?

A blush is sporting on Lexa’s cheek before she can stop it. “You are a very pretty view.” Lexa offers softly, her voice is raspy too, littered with sleep even though her eyes have been open for a long amount of time.

Clarke’s smirks and her cheeks start to turn pink along with the tip of the ear she can see and it’s very pretty. In a sense, it reminds Lexa of the sunrise itself, when the sky is stamped with different colors of pink all over and basking the earth in its prettiness. Clarke basks Lexa in her prettiness now and she is unaware of it. Clarke basks everyone in her prettiness every day and she is always unaware of it. Lexa feels the urge to tell her such a thing so she truly finally knows.

“Are you flirting with me Leksa?” Clarke mumbles. Her arm around Lexa’s waist tightens affectionately before she loosens her grip again. Lexa herself is blushing but it doesn’t take much for her to do so. Instead of answering with something witty and smart back she only leans forward and places her lips against Clarke’s cheek very gently, making the girl’s grip tighten immediately around Lexa’s waist.

For a moment, the brunette thinks she’s done something wrong, but when she leans back to look at Clarke’s deep and pretty blue eyes, she knows she really didn’t.

The blonde girl has turned her head, her eyes open and cloudy with sleep and Lexa thinks she looks so beautiful and she wishes, she really wishes she could kiss Clarke right on her pretty mouth because something so pretty deserves to be cherished and she is sure that Clarke doesn’t get much cherishing. Her voice comes through so unbelievably raspy as she says “What was that for?” and it makes Lexa shudder slightly as she looks down into Clarke’s blue eyes and thinks she could swim in them. She really could, and it would be like swimming with the stars and yet she would somehow never get lost no matter how many billions of stars she passes.

Her fingertips touch Clarke’s cheek and she decides, that in the comfort of their bed she will tell Clarke the truth, _always_.

“I wanted to kiss you.” Lexa says quietly, voice only a whisper as the sun peaks just a little bit more into their room through the open balcony. She catches one of Clarke’s tears as it squeezes out of the corner of her eye and she wipes it away because she does not want Clarke to cry anymore. She wants Clarke to smile and “you are beautiful” is falling out of her mouth in hopes that she will but Clarke’s eyes just water more as she speaks.

The beautiful blonde girl does manage a smile though, but it’s watery as her eyes sparkle and shine with unshed tears and Lexa aches as she watches her cry. She wishes that Clarke would not cry anymore but she knows that Clarke has too big of a heart to never cry again. Clarke feels too much, and she looks so unbelievably pretty when she does cry that Lexa is unsure if Clarke is even actually human because what human looks this beautiful when they cry?

“You make giving you space and time really hard.” Clarke chuckles through her tears, voice cracking vulnerably as she reaches up with her own hands and wipes under her eyes, sniffing her feelings down and meeting Lexa’s soft green gaze that sparkles at her in a way they never have before. Lexa just wants Clarke to know how much she truly adores her, because she really does.

Lexa decides that now would be a good time to tell Clarke that she remembered some of her; it would make her smile, or cry more, or both. Lexa is unsure at this point. “I remembered some of you.” Lexa says easily, smiling down at her brightly and holding back its growth when Clarke smiles up at her excitedly at the muttered information.

“You did! What?” Clarke sputters out, sitting up and bringing Lexa with her so their sitting upright in her bed and Lexa laughs because Clarke is adorable and she isn’t sure how she will manage even a day without hearing her beautiful voice, even once, even if it’s just to scold her or yell at her for doing something that worries Clarke. She is quickly addicted to her presences and Lexa wonders how _Leksa_ would feel about these thoughts.

“Not a lot, just a few things.” Lexa says softly, keeping her smile firmly in its place. Clarke looks unsatisfied with this information and corks an eyebrow up as if to tell her that she deserves more explanation than that, silently encouraging her to go on.

Lexa manages an eye roll before she’s giving in. “Watching you sleep. Thinking the same things I thought this morning.” Lexa feels herself blush as she tangles her fingers together, looking down at them nervously. She bites her bottom lip and is aware that Clarke is watching her intently but she feels too shy to tell the blonde girl how she was really thinking, even though in a sense she had already done so and done enough this morning to let the blonde know what she is always thinking about her.

“How often did you watch me sleep?” Clarke asks lightly, sounding incredibly pleased with the fact that Lexa was remembering her at all, since most of Lexa’s memories this past week had been rough and incredibly terrible memories with very, very little of Clarke in any of them. In fact, Clarke was in almost none of them, and Lexa always felt bad about that even though she couldn’t control what she did and didn’t remember.

If she could, she would choose to remember Clarke, and only Clarke.

“Quite a bit,” Lexa confesses, biting her bottom lip a little too hard as if that will help stop the dark blush surfacing along her cheekbones.

“And what did you think?” Clarke asks sweetly, moving closer to her again, until she was sitting in front of Lexa, grinning from ear to ear.

She thinks that Clarke looks so pleasantly beautiful, and it suddenly doesn’t matter to her how humiliating it may be to admit how many times she’s watched the blonde sleep before.

“How pretty you are,” Lexa breathes before meeting Clarke’s eyes that sparkle in the morning light prettier than she thinks she’s ever seen them. “How much I care about you.” Lexa breathes out. “How much I want to protect you.” Lexa reaches out and grabs Clarke’s wrist gently, as if that will ground her from this situation. “How much I never want you to get hurt.” Lexa is suddenly realizing how her flashes of memory of Clarke bring about more significant than she thought, and even though it isn’t a lot, it’s enough for today. “You are very important to me _Klark_.” Lexa says sternly, watching as pretty blue eyes blink at her slowly, listening intently.

She is unaware of what Clarke may be thinking but she needs her to know this. “You will not forget that, will you?” She asks Clarke gently, her grip tightening slightly around Clarke’s wrist as she watches the girl in front of her blink a few times, taking in Lexa’s response.

She takes in a very deep breath where she sits before she nods her head once, to affirm that she has heard Lexa and then she leans forward and pulls Lexa into a tight hug, so they are close and Lexa can feel Clarke’s fast heartbeat through her chest, pounding against her own.

She wraps her arms slowly around Clarke before burying her nose in the crook of the blonde’s neck and taking in her scent that reminds her of happiness and warmth. She squeezes the girl in her arms as her eyes drift shut and she loses herself in Clarke’s embrace, slightly dreading when Clarke will pull away and praying that she’ll get a few more seconds as the moments pass.

When Clarke does pull away she plants a gentle kiss at the corner of Lexa’s mouth that makes the brunette’s breath catch in her throat before she backs up and stands from her bed. “Duty calls.” She announces light heartedly, and winks at Lexa as she heads toward the bathroom.

Lexa wishes she could follow her.

 

…

 

Clarke is aware that she shouldn’t be impatient with the army she is greeted with on a daily bases but she can’t help but be so. She has given the same orders, listened to the same complaints day after day. She does what she can to solve the problems they ask her to solve, sometime she succeeds, sometimes she doesn’t, but overall life for the soldiers isn’t terrible. The action is lacking, crime rates are low and the most they have to do is deliver fines and patrol villages.

They’re bored, she understands that, but being bored as a soldier is a good thing. They have other things they can focus on doing rather than preparing for battle. Generals can prepare for future epidemics if they ever come but they can also keep a strict training regime because they have the _time_ too… they have so much time.

Clarke doesn’t understand why they find this a problem, or why so many can be so upset with her for keeping their workload so light. It’s not only her fault of course; it takes all of the people in a community to keep enough peace that they have no war to worry about. But the soldiers, soldiers that have known mostly war their entire lives, are upset about the peace.

She has been working hard trying to weed out people that are looking for battle, but the harsher the limits the angrier people get. She’s gotten some nasty looks from some nasty men the last few days as she walks through Polis and she is afraid of it and unaware of what the hell she’s even going to do about it, or what it even means.

She may just be paranoid, but the last thing she needs is some war hungry rebels on her back because they are _bored_. She can’t keep letting brutality be tolerated, what kind of leader would she even be if her people were terrified of their own protection? So as her number of warriors limit, she worries and worries because she has to be strict. As people that have been fighting their whole lives are told they are no longer qualified to work in the armies, she worries and worries because they are angry. They are angry with her, and with the people around her and its unsafe.

It’s a problem, and she is desperate that her numbers don’t keep dwindling; she is desperate that she finds warriors okay with protecting, okay with the fact that there is not much they need to protect these days. She has heard some stories, of men talking down about her, of unsettled warriors speaking of uprising against her because of her limitations, because of her brand new rules and actions and she is afraid that they will do this. She’s afraid that she won’t be able to stop them when they come to hurt her people and she doesn’t know what to do about it.

She expresses her worries with Indra and Octavia and other ambassadors as the numbers in her army becomes far less than what they used to be. Indra is comforting about it, suspicious herself, and keeps herself and a team she assembles to look out for any signs of uprising.

Octavia is less worried. Often telling Clarke that “you’re just used to war” and “you’re bored too so you worry.” She always claps a hand against Clarke’s back and says. “Go home and spend time with Lexa, you don’t need to be here, we’re at peace.” But it doesn’t feel like it lately, even though spending time with Lexa is about all she ever wants to do and those words are as tempting as ever.

The ambassadors are less compliant. They have always liked her less than most, and they have even more complaints than that of bored army men. Some of them speak of being under tainted leadership; others uproot themselves from their locations to hound Clarke with questions of their own concerns about an uprising.

_“How are you going to solve it?”_

_“Lexa would cut the hands off a trader.”_

_“My villages are frightened enough of military reinforcements, we do not need to worry about raids too.”_

They shout and shout until Clarke is yelling at them to _shut the hell up_. When Clarke loses her temper, they realize that Clarke is not just a person, but _heda_ , and their apologies are immediate, but Clarke knows they will question her again, doubt her leadership and tell her she is less of a commander than Lexa ever could be. Clarke is aware that she can’t compare to the Commander of Peace, but it would be nice, if for once, someone told her she was doing a good job.

Perhaps they don’t because she’s not. And as Clarke bites down harshly on her bottom lip in thought of this, she is aware that she must try even harder to prove herself. It is not enough to have peace in almost all places, but she needs peace everywhere. She needs peace within her army, and peace amongst warriors who can no longer be warriors.

She muses over these worries to Lincoln, who tells her that she is reaching for the impossible, that some people don’t ever want peace, and perhaps he is right but she knows that if she doesn’t try as much as she can, that she shall never be a respected leader, the way that she strives to be.

Lincoln informs her that she is doing a fabulous job, but Clarke can’t really take the compliment to heart, feeling that she is missing something important that she needs to do. When she goes to leave Lincoln tells her “I will go to Arkadia and discuss this with Kane, perhaps he can come and help you if you think you need it so badly.” And even though Clarke knows she could just send a letter down there herself, she does much prefer that Lincoln ride there himself.

Though peace was handled easily between the sky people and the grounders, their trust was still threaded thinly, and even good soldiers in the army often spoke of how little they cared of that of skaikru. Sometimes it caused fights within the ranks but those were easily solved, and each party could understand that things were better when they weren’t fighting each other.

_Kane will listen to her if no other ambassador does at least._

Her nights with Lexa go on the same as the weeks pass, and Lexa remembers things slowly each day, but again long bouts go by and Lexa receives memories of what seems like everything but Clarke, and sometimes that really sets the blonde on edge. She loves to hear Lexa talk about remembering things, even though sometimes those memories make the brunette ache, but she can’t help but feel jealous that most of the time, she is never involved in her memories.

It makes Clarke feel unimportant, as most things have throughout these days.

When Clarke was stressed about these things, about uprising, and small numbers, and obnoxious ambassadors, and her Lexa not remembering her, she liked to take a walk through the streets of Polis, and listen to the gossip and the light heartedness of the air around her.

She remembers a time that things weren’t so good at all in the city, not long after Lexa’s death, and Clarke had spent a good amount of time gaining trust from just these people alone, watching them come alive again before her eyes. She decides, instead of riding with her horse through the capital and home again, to pretty green eyes and food Lexa no doubt remembered how to cook today, that she would walk slowly, the long way, through Polis and just listen to her people.

Yes, they were her people now, and she loved them.

Some of the stories made her laugh, like the ones about Green Fury resembling a princess from the fairytale books, and how she was acquitted for her crimes because of her beauty and how _“heda fell at her feet, unable to look away.”_ She especially liked the ones that described Lexa as more of a superhero, spouting bursts of green light from her hands and saving villages from the recent brutalities. These ones say she was acquitted for her crimes because of her heroicness, and that she now resides in the tower as an honored member of society.

Clarke has a feeling that all of these stories would only confuse Lexa.

The blonde commander is amazed at the sheer amount of stories surrounding the Green Fury, and she can’t help her thoughts from wandering down a long path of which story may have come first and from whom.

She likes other stories too, about the past war and how certain names fall from lips of the people around her to honor those who have died because they were brave and heroic without superpowers but only based on sheer will and strength. She loves that the children reenact war scenes with wooden swords and that some little girl pretends to be _“Leksa kom Trikru, the greatest commander the world has ever known,”_ to little boys who pretend to be _“Lincoln kom Trikru a true fighter with a big heart.”_ Each story she passes is embellished and dramatic and childish, but they are all cute and she finds a pride and warmth in them that she is unable to ignore.

As she walks through town, some recognize her but are too shy to say hello, while others greet her gratefully and speak to her in heavy trigedasleng that she can’t always translate herself. She is all nods and smiles through the town, never straying at one point to long but always smiling and always showing appreciation for her people. They take her doubts with them as they travel through their streets and Clarke finds that by the time she reaches Polis tower again she is relaxed in a way that she hadn’t been for a long time. Not in the same sense that she gets when she wakes up and Lexa is wrapped around her body, sleeping soundly, with her fists clenched in her shirt like she’s afraid she’s going to disappear, but in the sense that she can lead, and that she’s not doing the worst job that could ever be done.

She’s not doing enough, she thinks, but at least what she is doing right now is keeping her people happy, and that’s the key to being a good leader. The people.

Guards scold her for walking alone, but she informs them everything is alright, that there isn’t much to be afraid of; however, they still give her stern looks and she can’t help the chuckle that escapes her as she enters the building and leaves her worries outside.

She feels a lightness enter her chest the moment the doors close behind her and she can’t wait to see Lexa, bright eyed and a pretty smile but than she remembers that maybe Lexa won’t look like that today. She hadn’t yesterday, after remembering a particular battle she had fought in that was extra brutal and apparently extra violent than most of her other battles.

Clarke likes to think that she’s good at comforting Lexa in these moments, but she knows she’s not. Lexa never tells her as such though, just lets Clarke try and smiles sadly at her the more that time goes on.

Clarke hopes Lexa is happy today, but she is still excited to see any version of Lexa she may get. Whether her lips tremble from sadness or from Clarke’s touch, she will just be pleased to see the beautiful brunette. She has spent all day away, leaving before she had awoken, and she has missed her because they haven’t spent this much time apart since Lexa came back to her, breathing, again.

She knows it’s almost dinner time and she wonders if Lexa is in the kitchens at this very moment. She loves to cook, something that Clarke hadn’t really known about her until recently, and she finds it interesting how she can learn things about Lexa when Lexa doesn’t even know these things about herself at this point in her life.

She was incredibly adorable when she baked.

The blonde commander heard laughter as she neared the entrance to the kitchens, and she felt a smile slip along her lips as she heard Lexa’s voice, speaking harshly saying “it’s not funny,” and “it’s not nice to laugh at people,” and Clarke is so eager to open the door and see the former commander’s beautiful green eyes that when she pushes the wood, it practically flies off its hinges and slams with a bang against the wall that makes everyone in the room jump and look at Clarke, silence overtaking the room.

She feels the blush start from the base of her neck and fill up her entire face. “Sorry,” she mumbles sheepishly, and sees a messy sulking Lexa light up slightly as Clarke enters the room.

The cooks laugh it off and go about their business but Clarke is surprised that Raven sits across from Lexa, looking light hearted and happy in her very place. Raven didn’t laugh very much, but she had grown more peaceful throughout the months, and now she sat across from Lexa with a grin on her face that was unmistakable and Clarke was really confused about it.

_Since when were her and Lexa friends anyway?_

“Clarke, you missed Lexa failing at making chocolate chip cookies. Can you believe that? Bitch can bake a five layer cake, and chocolate soufflé but she can’t bake cookies?” Raven laughs more as Lexa’s scowls in her direction and her bright green eyes narrow threateningly.

“Shut up Reyes, it’s not funny.” Lexa snaps, impatiently and stands from her seat. “I’ll just do it again.” She sets her jaw, offers Clarke a tight smile, and turns on her heels toward the other cooks to try and talk them into letting her try again while Raven only laughs at her retreating back.

Clarke is clearly stunned by the encounter. “You’re baking cookies with Lexa now?” The blonde offers lightly, one eyebrow shooting up on her forehead as she stares at Raven accusingly, who shoots her hands up as if to surrender.

“She’s burning cookies, I’m only watching.” That gathers another glare from Lexa across the room.

“I’ll make cookies out of you!” She snaps and it only makes Raven laugh harder, grabbing her stomach and tossing her head back.

Clarke can’t help the slight smile slipping across her lips at seeing her friend so lighthearted an easygoing. She can’t remember the last time Raven had looked this way, in fact, she isn’t sure she’s ever really seen her look this way. It’s pleasant, and she’s surprised that it’s Lexa that managed to pull this out of her.

“You may think I’m immune to burning, but you’ll manage it Lex,” Raven offers jokingly, grinning from ear to ear as the brunette’s scowl deepens. She whips back around toward the other cooks who are trying to talk her through the cookie making, and Clarke takes a moment to appreciate the view that she is greeted with as Lexa has her back to them.

“Lex?” Clarke offers questioningly as she finally enters the room further and drops in a seat beside Raven who turns her twinkly eyed grin toward her. “What are you even doing here anyway?” Clarke offers, cringing slightly at herself at the way it had come out sounding.

“I’ve come to steal your girl.” Raven jokes, rolling brown orbs at Clarke but her grin never leaves. “I’m quite offended that you would ask me that, I thought you cared about me Griffin.” She clutches her chest in fake offense, but Clarke only glares at her before shoving her shoulder.

“You know what I mean. I thought you had some stuff to do in Arkadia.” Clarke states, reaching across the table and picking up a black cookie from the paper sheet they were placed rather neatly on for failing at being a cookie.

Raven snorts out a bit of laughter as the blonde knocks her knuckles against it. “I did, but I’m blowing it off. Taking a vacation. Thought I’d stay with you, visit Octavia; learn all of Lexa’s deep dark secrets while she’s vulnerable.” Raven teases lightly, which only earns an eye roll from Clarke.

“She doesn’t even remember her deep dark secrets.” Clarke mutters in reply, breaking apart the burnt black cookie and playing with the crumbs.

Raven laughs. “She remembers some, when I first arrived she greeted me at the door, and then fell to the floor kind of like she did in the meeting, but less um, scared I guess.” Raven waves her hands around as she explains and though Clarke wants to keep her eyes on the girl, she can’t help but let her blues find Lexa’s back, watching her shoulders as they work with a mixer. “I was kind of like _“what do I do with this?”_ but then she stood up pretty quickly and kept telling me she was sorry for our past, she really is a weird one.” Raven chuckles, adjusting her brace slightly as she speaks.

“Apologizing for your past?” Clarke questions lightly, with her eyes still firmly trained on Lexa.

“Yeah you know, wrongfully accused, slice ‘em and dice ‘em in TonDC.” Raven leans against the table and follows Clarke’s gaze. “She apparently remembered the whole poisoning thing and tying me up to a tree, she was not very pleased with herself about it. Which is good, I wasn’t very pleased about with her about it either.” Raven chuckles as she lets her eyes shift back to Clarke.

The blonde still doesn’t look at her. “She told you about all of it?” Clarke asks gently, but Raven only responds with a shrug she doesn’t see.

“She’s not going to disappear into thin air Clarke.” Raven finally says, snapping her fingers in front of Clarke’s face, making the girl jump slightly and look at her again.

“I know that, I just,” Clarke pouts slightly because she knows what she’s about to say is incredibly cheesy and she doesn’t normally do incredibly cheesy. “I haven’t seen her all day, I miss her.” Clarke rests her chin against her hand as she props her elbow up on the table, aware of Raven’s teasing smirk but not bothering to be bothered by it.

“You’re whipped.” Raven chuckles and rolls her eyes lightly. She makes a whipping sound in Clarke’s direction but Clarke just smacks her playfully light.

She doesn’t deny what Raven says. “Shut up,” She offers sheepishly before her eyes find Lexa again, who’s head is turned to the side so Clarke can see the perfect part of half of her face as she talks animatedly with her hands to a small female cook beside her that tries to show her the right ingredients to use.

Clarke loves her so much.

Nothing quite relaxes Clarke the same way that just seeing Lexa does. Though long walks through the capital often calm her down, Lexa brings a whole new kind of peace to her day, calming her and making her feel light and loved and passionate all at the same time. She brings colors to Clarke’s head, makes her itch to paint the images of the sky in the morning, and the way Lexa relaxes and sleeps soundly in their bed, the way she looks with flour under her right eye, the way she laughs when Clarke tells her something sweet or a joke that she doesn’t get, the way she teaches the children outside of the Polis tower how to defend themselves and the way she spares with the soldiers of the tower, who are still so fascinated by her. She aches to paint Lexa, in all the beautifully vivid colors of who she is, and wonders if she asks, if Lexa will let her.

Lexa spends an hour making the dough, and spends another hour just trying to get it to ball up right on the sheets. The oven is lighted with fire and she watches as Lexa carefully places them in, noticing how the flames lick out too closely to her skin as if their chasing her. Clarke can imagine this moment in a flurry of reds and oranges and yellows, and how Lexa’s green eyes would sparkle within the flames, as if some kind of angel to guide her home.

Clarke’s hand itches and itches and itches to run upstairs and grab a pencil that was rusting on the left side of her nightstand, to find the sketchpad buried underneath layers and layers of war books and battle strategies, throw it open, and draw the perfect image of the girl before her, of the girl’s eyes that find hers throughout multiple times while she focuses on perfecting a cookie recipe.

She is the most beautiful being in the entire world and Clarke is aware of just madly in love with her she is.

 

 

Dinner goes by easily with lots of chatter, not the same kind that Clarke and Lexa normally share as they eat dinner alone on late nights, because Raven is here, livening the room up with stories of space that Lexa can’t help but hold onto each word the intelligent girl mutters. She watches Raven relentlessly, following all of her hand movements and looking as if she can see every word that falls from Raven’s mouth. She butts in at all of the right times and asks all sorts of questions Raven is all but happy to answer and Clarke spends most of dinner just listening to them.

The blonde watches as Lexa’s eyes widen when Raven talks of debris storms and her voice squeaks slightly as she says “How the hell do you survive that?” She is so interested and fascinated by how living in the sky had worked that Clarke doesn’t want to interrupt at any point with her own comments. She just wants to watch Lexa absorb information for the rest of the night and watch the way she lights up with every new amount of knowledge.

She obviously liked Raven, and Raven apparently liked her and Clarke wasn’t completely sure how she feels about that. The two interacted with such ease, and when their conversations had developed into war strategies (which Lexa had learned some through reading some books through her spare time and remembering things such as planning and training with her men) and Raven told Lexa of making bombs, she watches as Lexa’s green eyes widen again and she’d say “you know how to make a bomb?” like that’s something only god, or maybe the devil, can do, and she leans forward, with her food forgotten as Raven goes into a complicated explanation that doesn’t make any sense whatsoever to Clarke, and she’s sure it probably doesn’t make much sense to Lexa, but the former commander is eager to learn, so Clarke doesn’t interrupt.

When Raven is to full and tired she heads off to bed throwing Clarke a wink and whispering, “get some,” in the blonde’s ear before she exits, and the comment makes Clarke blush and her glare is unmistakable as the mechanic cackles her way out of the room.

Lexa, seeming to have just realized how little she had eaten, is too busy stuffing her face to notice the interaction. Clarke can only smile at her. The room in plunged into silence as Lexa finishes up, but it isn’t uncomfortable, and by the time Lexa is done, she is grinning tiredly in Clarke’s direction and telling her she’s too full for dessert. “Let’s just go to bed.” She says, and Clarke really loves the way the corner of her eyes crinkle with her grin.

“Gladly,” Clarke replies, and takes Lexa’s hand as they exit the room to head toward their room and everything is calm. Their interactions are easy and sweet and Lexa leans her head on Clarke’s shoulder as they walk toward their room, her thumb moving idly along the side of Clarke’s hand, creating goose-bumps Clarke is sure she’s unaware of.

Clarke lets Lexa get ready for bed first, and when she is done and looking clearly sleepy, Clarke spends very little amount of time in the bathroom so she can get to Lexa before she falls asleep. But by the time she enters the room again, Lexa is out cold, her face buried in a pillow while on top of the furs. Clearly she was waiting for Clarke, but she was obviously too tired and out she was. Clarke will just have to hear about her day later.

Though Lexa may still be a little bit stronger than Clarke (not by much anymore) she easily lifts the girl up and pulls her under the covers, pulling up the furs around her shoulders and kissing her head gently as the girl mumbles in her sleep and snuggles closer to her pillows. Clarke smiles down at her, feeling her heart fill the same way it does every time she looks at Lexa and because she isn’t that tired, spends a few minutes looking for that lost sketchpad of hers.

She finds it under some old war plans she’s not even sure are hers and flips it open to look at the many sketches inside of it. There are a lot from her time in Polis before Lexa’s passing, lots of the balcony and the beautiful sunrises. Lots of the night bloods, who have all passed now, and lots of different areas of the tower.

The last one she drew is of Lexa, sleeping on a couch, looking untroubled and peaceful and beautiful. Clarke glances up at her now, where she sleeps buried in her pillows and feels herself frown as she looks down at the Lexa in this picture. It hasn’t quite captured her, who she was then, who she will always be. She looks soft, like the Lexa she has come to know now, but also like a Lexa that has the same troubles and worries that she used too. She looks beautiful and sweet and Clarke aches to touch that Lexa again.

Clarke isn’t sure why it makes her angry, but it does, and instead of admiring the picture, she rips it out of her book and crumples it up in her hands, tossing it on the ground aggressively as she feels the lump her throat form and she is unable to stop the water in her eyes from falling.

She collapses against the sofa and cradles her head in her hands as she thinks about the day she had started that drawing. That drawing that still remained unfinished and doesn’t even slightly capture all the rough edges of the Lexa she had grown to fall in love with. The Lexa that is still lost somewhere, lost and all alone.

Her hands ball against her hair and she wipes at her eyes repeatedly, trying to calm the pounding of her heart down as it slams against her ribcage, but she aches with misery that she can never truly get over. It’s a misery she has grown accustomed to feeling through her months of living without Lexa, and maybe it even started before she lost her.

Then the Lexa that is still here grumbles something incomprehensible in her bed and she sounds troubled and scared. She sounds frightened and it makes Clarke alert and she’s already standing, quickly heading toward the bed when she steps on the crumbled paper and feels it crush beneath her barefoot.

She sniffs and pulls it from the ground, unscrambling the paper and trying to smooth it out the best she can, tracing the lines of a crumbled jawline and sleeping eyes. She looks at the girl that thrashes for a moment in her bed and then back down at the image in her hand and she understands that she was being ridiculous to think that this Lexa was any different than the one she has now because she has every Lexa. This Lexa, that Lexa, they are all the same Lexa. The Lexa in her bed is the same as the one in this drawing, just unaffected with the same worries, unfettered and unafraid and so, so sweet in a way that Clarke only got to experience very little of before Lexa had gone from her.

She has Lexa now, and she slips the paper back into the place she tore it from in her sketchpad and sets it on the arm of the sofa as she walks across the room toward the bed, wiping her nose on her sleeve and slipping under the covers where Lexa grunts and moans unhappily in unconsciousness. She slides her arms around the girl and pulls her against her protectively, brushing her fingers through her hair and listening as her whines turn to whimpers and her breath evens out and she slips back peacefully into her dreams. She snuggles into Clarke unknowingly and breathes easier against her, twisting her hands into Clarke’s shirt and mumbling her name as she sleeps.

Clarke feels heavy with guilt that she had for a second thought that this Lexa was any different from the Lexa she had drawn in that picture. She only wishes that Lexa would remember her, that doesn’t make her any less of the person that she loves, that she will continue to love for the rest of her life.

She loves her. She loves all of her, every last piece of her that exists, every version of her that she comes to see, she loves her. Clarke doesn’t think there will come a time where she doesn’t love her deeply and incredibly so, blinded with her affection and wrapped up in Lexa’s sweetness. She never wants to relearn what it is like without any version of Lexa at all, and closes her eyes telling herself to appreciate what she has in her arms.

That isn’t hard to do since she loves every part of Lexa equally and deeply.

Clarke falls asleep with her fingers tangled in the soft long brown curls and her lips pressed to a smooth forehead. Her sleep is mostly untroubled and filled with pretty green eyes and lots of color.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank the person that said something about Raven and Lexa having interactions in the comments because that sparked this whole chapter. :)
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed this, tweet me any time (I don't get on much but I enjoy talking :P), and have a fabulous day.  
> Hope to see you next chapter. :D


	8. Grounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stuff happens in this chapter and I fix Clarke's father's watch plot hole because I'm a nub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 8. :)

A month passes by easily and Lexa remembers even more than she had before. The only problem with that was the fact that she didn’t seem to be remembering Clarke really or any significant memories pertaining to Clarke at least. She remembers some things, like what she thought when she first saw Clarke, which she told the blonde about which had her blushing through most of dinner one night, or how she felt the first time Clarke had said her name, but nothing really immense, nothing beyond fluttering heart rates and intense stares.

She knew it annoyed Clarke, that Lexa could seem to remember everything else but her but there was nothing the brunette could do about it. She wasn’t in charge of what she remembered and what she didn’t. Things would be a lot different if that were the case.

Along the subject of her memory Lexa knew it was shaping her into someone different. Not completely, just perhaps, shaping her back into the person she had become before she had lost herself. She knows it must be the case as certain people have begun to speak to her differently. Well, differently wasn’t exactly the right phrasing. They have begun to speak to her as if she was the commander again, rather than as if she was some girl their commander was helping.

And this wasn’t really a bad thing, as she has always treated her people with respect and honor, so the change (sort of) wasn’t horrible. The change had actually boosted her confidence in a sense, she felt like she belonged here a lot more than she had before, and as she remembered faces and names and her time in each room at Polis Tower people began to treat her far less delicately.

Where some had accidently called her _heda_ before, most were now doing it on purpose, and Lexa had stopped correcting them. Clarke didn’t even correct them.

The first time someone in the tower had done it in front of Clarke, Lexa had expected the blonde to grow angry. She had expected the some kind of scene, and maybe even for the young warrior that had done it to be thrown out of the room at least. But Clarke did none of those things. In fact, Clarke barely flinched, or even paid attention to the fact that it had happened, and because Lexa had honestly felt like talking less and less as time went on, she didn’t ask Clarke about why.

Instead she carried on to ask Clarke how she was, because she knows the blonde has been stressed out with the current uprising in the outer villages. She encouraged Clarke the way the blonde deserved to be encouraged and watched her relax as Lexa spoke to her. She told Clarke of her many memories and the blonde listened and said all the right things when she needed to say them, as most of Lexa’s past is not happy.

When they had gone to bed that night and Lexa had asked Clarke how she felt about people calling her _heda_ , the blonde girl had only shrugged and said: “You are _heda_ , I’m just a substitute.” And for some reason, it made Lexa sad. Clarke had a way of saying things that made it sound like she didn’t think very much of herself, and Lexa wasn’t sure if she’d ever understand why Clarke could feel any negative way about herself at all.

To Lexa, Clarke was the most incredible person she had ever met. She was kind and strong, she cared about everyone and she worked very hard to protect people the best she could in all the ways that she could. She listened to people and found ways to solve their problems. She worried over their happiness, and it often kept her up at night. She was selfless, she was good. Lexa had no idea how Clarke couldn’t see that in herself.

So the brunette had taken it upon herself one day, after Clarke had gotten home in a rather grumpy mood, to try and show her and tell her of all the reasons she is a good person. But when Lexa tried it only seemed to frustrate the blonde immensely, even more so than when she had first arrived home and the two had gotten into their first fight since Lexa came to Polis.

Clarke had come back to the tower so stressed that she had even shoved the doors open so hard they slammed against the walls. It made everyone flinch. She even looked awful and had skipped right through dinner because “I’m not hungry, okay Lexa.”

She was all snappy and unaffectionate and Lexa was worried. So she did what she thought was right and followed Clarke through the tower, sprouting encouragements at every corner. Though nothing she said seemed to work and eventually the blonde ended up whirling around on her and yelling things like, “You don’t know what you’re talking about Lexa.” She had done that halfway down the hallway to their room. She had spun around with eyes blazing. “You don’t understand. Who knows if you ever will Lexa.” Clarke had advanced on her, and where Lexa would have been a little more intimidated in the past, did not back down this time. Something about her memories in these months had made Lexa more resilient to confrontation. Especially petty fights, such as the one Clarke was forcing upon her.

“I know what I’m talking about.” Lexa’s voice had raised an octave but it was coldly calm, unlike Clarke’s that had echoed down the hallways as she yelled. The guards were watching them, but they were trying to pretend not too.

Clarke was not intimidated by Lexa’s demeanor though, she held her ground as firmly as she always does, ready for a fight, she was just furious. And that turned Lexa’s stomach in the most unpleasant of ways. “Just because you refuse to listen, does not mean I do not know what I’m saying.” Lexa tries for calm, but her voice shakes as she says it. She doesn’t deserve to be yelled at in this way, and she doesn’t understand why Clarke is doing it.

“You always do that!” Clarke snaps out in aggravation. “Just because you remember something on a random day doesn’t make you a genius Lexa.” Clarke’s eyes were wide and angry and cold and Lexa felt her stomach twist even more so at the sight of them. She only remembers one time in her life having Clarke look at her like this, and she had sworn she never wanted to see Clarke look at her like that again. “You don’t remember anything Lexa; you can’t possibly understand what is happening out there. And on top of that, nobody can compare to you. Nobody is good enough and yet you can’t lead these people because you don’t remember who you are!” Clarke was too close to her while she was this angry and Lexa could feel her heartbeat in her ears as a fire burned its way through her body until it was touching her heart.

Clarke was being incredibly rude. “You are not being fair Clarke.” She informs her, her voice steely and on edge. She can feel her own blood starting to boil, her own anger surfacing into her expression. But that didn’t seem to matter to Clarke, who only scoffed and rolled her normally pretty eyes at Lexa like she was the one being unreasonable. Lexa knew, however, that she was being perfectly reasonable; it was Clarke who was out of line.

The blonde flung her hands out to her sides and said, “Well join the club, nobody thinks I’m fair.” And without another word, Clarke stormed off down the hall. She didn’t spare Lexa a glance, and slammed her bedroom door behind her and Lexa could have sworn she felt it shake the hallways.

Lexa didn’t like having Clarke mad at her before bed, but the brunette knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. So that was possibly the more frustrating part of the situation. She didn’t know how to make Clarke feel better, and now she was angry herself so she didn’t want to make Clarke feel better, and Lexa went to bed alone that night for the first time in a long time.

She didn’t sleep however, her eyes seemed to be glued open, and every time she tried to shut them, she’d feel more awake than ever. She tossed and she turned until she heard her door open and she shot up from her bed, alert and ready for the intruder.

“Leksa,” came the blonde’s voice, soft and vulnerable and the brunette found her irritation melting away.

“Come in,” Lexa had found herself saying, though it came out a lot colder than she had expected it too.

“Lexa I’m sorry,” Clarke says quickly, the door stayed open behind her as she advanced further in the room. “I was just irritated and I should have talked to you about it instead of blowing up like that. I’m really sorry; I didn’t mean any of that stuff I said.” Clarke’s voice is higher than usual, and Lexa can feel her resolve melting away as she gets a glimpse of the blonde’s face from the moonlight coming in from the windows.

She looks completely flustered, and Lexa finds herself standing to greet Clarke face to face. The blonde looks worried as well, her face washed of all the earlier frustration, though Lexa can still feel a small ounce of her frustrated at the blonde for taking out her troubles on her.

“It’s not my fault I don’t remember everything,” Lexa says in front of her, her eyes attaching to blue ones and demanding attention to her words.

Clarke nods, breaking the gaze so she can look down at her hands in almost an ashamed way. “I know,” She whispers quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that.” Her voice cracks slightly. “Truthfully you can probably lead them better with absolutely no memory than I can on any day.” Clarke whisper’s into the quiet and Lexa feels her heart tug in her chest.

She tilts the blonde’s chin, so those pretty blue eyes are looking into her own and she whispers. “I’m proud of you.” And the blonde seems to melt in her place, her eyes beginning to water and then she’s crying and Lexa pulls the slightly shorter girl into a tight embrace as she does so, her voice cracking on a few more “I’m sorry, Lexa” ‘s while she does so.

Lexa just shushes her and smoothed out her hair and holds her while she cries and the moment pieces them both back together. Clarke doesn’t seem to want to part from Lexa so the brunette takes initiative and says. “Let’s go to bed,” and Clarke just nods into her neck. The blonde doesn’t expect Lexa to pick her up, and she squeals slightly as the brunette does it.

“What are you doing,” she sniffles as Lexa wraps her up in her arms.

The brunette just grins at her. “I’ve been working out.” She shoots her eyebrows up and down suggestively and the blonde can’t help but throw her head back and laugh as she wraps her arms around the girl and holds her as she is carried back into their room and laid down on the bed. Lexa climbs in beside her and this time it’s Clarke that snuggles into the slightly taller girl’s neck. Lexa just keeps her arms around her like she’s afraid Clarke will disappear, and she guesses, that in some kind of way, she is afraid of that.

But just as Lexa is getting to sleep, Clarke moves and whispers her name quietly above her. Her eyes flutter open, and she can’t help but feel confused at the eyes that she is greeted with. Soft and gentle. Cold fingers brush across her cheekbone and then Clarke leans down and presses their lips together very gently. It makes Lexa’s heart rate increase, until she can feel the muscle pounding against her ribcage.

The kiss is light, fast, very soft, and gentle. It ends too soon and Lexa has to force her eyes back open again just to tell herself not to get lost in the feeling still buzzing across her lips. Clarke’s thumb brushes across her cheekbone and the blonde girl whispers. “Even if you never remember anything else, you are still going to be the most important person in the world to me.” Her voice is vulnerable, the way it only is with Lexa. Her touch is softer, her eyes are lighter, her breath is faster and Lexa is convinced that perhaps their heart is beating as one in this moment, at the same pace, slamming against ribcages.

Lexa leans back up and kisses Clarke again because it feels right, because she wants too, and Clarke’s lips are soft and beautiful and as her fingers tangle in blonde hair she gets lost in all the feelings that she is drowning in, that she always feels for Clarke whenever she lays her eyes on her. _Clarke_ … She loves Clarke.

She loves Clarke so much and she wonders how her brain could ever at all forget any moment that she has ever spent with Clarke. She loves Clarke more than she ever expected to love anything, more than fighting in the yard with the warriors, or playing with the night bloods, or cooking in the kitchen. She loves Clarke more than her box of memories that she keeps on the desk by her side of the bed, or more than she loves the way a candle lights up a room and makes it feel. She loves Clarke more than the sunrises in the morning, more than the taste of the water by the polis tower, more than the feel of a blade in her hands or the rush after you win a fight.

She loves Clarke more than she could ever love anything else in the world.

And as they part again, and Clarke breathes in air against her mouth, she knows she will never be able to not think about how much she loves this girl beside her. Her thoughts were consumed of it before she even realized that what she was feeling is love, and though being in love with Clarke is terrifying, she can’t help but think about how it has made her stronger.

She is strong because of Clarke; she wants to be strong because of Clarke. Falling in love with Clarke is the best thing that could have ever happened to her, and she thinks that she could lose her memory a billion times and it wouldn’t matter because each time she’d find Clarke and she’d fall in love with Clarke all over again because she never wants to love anyone else. Her soul knows that. And right now, at this time of night, in this bed, with Clarke’s forehead leaning against her own as they both catch their breath, she knows that her soul is exactly where it supposed to be.

 

 

***

 

 

Clarke’s favorite thing to do on Saturdays currently is spend time with Lexa. She likes Saturdays because there are no meetings, there are no war plans, there are no ambassadors, there’s just her and Lexa, and whatever Lexa wants to do that day. Today, it’s go to the lake, which isn’t that hard to do because it’s right by the tower, so they really don’t have to go that far. It’s a small walk into the woods and then they are there, and it makes Lexa smile.

Her smiles are starting to become increasingly rare as days go by. Clarke knows why, she knows Lexa’s memories are vivid and more reoccurring with each passing week. She knows Lexa is starting to remember who she is, and Lexa before, was tainted by plenty of misery. Smiling was a rarity that Clarke managed to get her to do on occasion, some when she wasn’t trying.

But no matter how much time passes, a smile on Lexa’s face is the most beautiful thing to ever grace earth, and Clarke has seen a lot of beautiful things since coming to earth. She thinks that maybe she’ll draw that while Lexa swims, since she had brought her sketch pad. The desire to draw was still very strong, but she couldn’t manage to get the time in. Between meetings, and military issues she was always too tired to do anything when she got home besides eat and go to bed while Lexa talked, or sometimes didn’t talk.

Sometimes she even had to force her eyes to stay open, just because she wanted to make time for Lexa, whom she sees less and less as tensions rise. It doesn’t seem to matter what precautions she takes, all her efforts are nearly useless. She is exhausting herself trying to fix things, but the more she tries to fix things the more broken they seem to become. She’s even thought about asking Lexa for help, since she’s begun to remember her commander duties, she’s given a lot more sound advice. But she didn’t want to make Lexa remember or do anything that Lexa didn’t want to do, and part of her was still trying to prove herself.

If she runs straight to Lexa, then she fails.

“You seem a little lost in thought.” Lexa’s hand had found her own at some point along the time that they had been walking to the lake along the path through the woods and Clarke had been squeezing it without realizing it. The brunette girl seemed rather light hearted today though, her stress limited, and her eyes happy. So Clarke didn’t worry too much about being the cause of any of Lexa’s stress.

She wondered if Lexa ever did remember everything, if these days where she smiles and seems at ease are going to be few and far between… Perhaps Lexa will never really remember everything. Perhaps Lexa will forever be this version of herself: a mix between that of the one who woke up in the woods alone, and that of the commander that everyone had loved and cared about.

Clarke isn’t sure which would be better.

“Just thinking,” Clarke shrugs but Lexa doesn’t seem like she wants Clarke stressed. She tugs on the girl’s hand until Lexa can wrap her arms around her waist and keep her close. She leans forward and rests her forehead against Clarke’s, and the blonde can feel her heart rate spike and feel her pulse pounding in her throat.

“You are doing the best you can.” One of Lexa’s hands leaves her waist to caress her cheek and Clarke melts into the touch, melts into the softness of the girl’s eyes and her reassuring words. “I promise you, that you are good enough.” Lexa’s voice is low, as if she fears anyone could over hear them, and she wants this moment to be between her and Clarke alone.

Clarke wants to kiss her again, but she holds back on the urge to press forward. It seems it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the physical wants of her body, that request she kiss Lexa until her last dying breathe. “Don’t worry about me Lexa, let’s just have fun okay.” Her voice is soft too, the moment is soft. It’s refreshing for Clarke, to have these moments when her day is averagely filled with so many demands and so many worries. Perhaps Lexa knows that Clarke needs this kind of softness for once. Perhaps Lexa is far more observant that Clarke even realizes.

The brunette girl smiles at her, wide and bright. “Are you going to swim too, or just draw?” Lexa asks teasingly as she parts from Clarke to strip herself of her extra clothing while Clarke sets her bag of items next to a tree trunk on the ground.

Clarke did have plans to reply, but they get lost in her throat as she looked over at Lexa lifting her shirt above her head and tossing it down onto the ground. Her skin is on display and Clarke takes a long deep breathe as she takes in the sight of her, as something in her belly flips and sparks something inside of her. Maybe she shouldn’t stare, but she can’t help it. Lexa is breathtaking with the sun beating down on her like this.

“Clarke,” Lexa ducks to catch her gaze and Clarke feels a deep blush begin at the base of her chest and spread until it’s covering her entire face. She is clearly being very obvious about what she’s doing.

“Um,” She takes a step back from Lexa, and from the smirk suddenly crossing the slightly taller girl’s features, she knows what Clarke was looking at. “I can’t swim.” Clarke croaks out as an answer, finally, and she hopes Lexa won’t tease her because she really doesn’t know how she would respond to even just a little bit of flirty Lexa right now.

“Are you kidding me _Klark_?” Lexa’s voice rises slightly, but in a playful tone. It grabs Clarke’s attention as she knits her eyebrows together curiously. So Lexa continues. “I realize you lived in the sky, but you’ve been on the ground how long now?” Lexa says in disbelief. “And no one has taught you how to swim yet?” She asks in astonishment and when Clarke shakes her head sheepishly, Lexa scoffs. “Unbelievable.” She says and unbuttons her pants so she can slide them off her body.

Clarke’s eyes follow the action. Lexa has no mercy on her.

“Strip Clarke, I’m going to teach you how to swim.” Lexa says in a rather commanding tone. But commanding or not, Clarke only steps back in protest.

“No Lexa, no.” She says in panic, but the brunette girl, done taking her own clothes off, turns toward her now.

This was not how she expected to take her clothes off with Lexa for the second time. “Come on Clarke, I won’t let you drown.” She says with a playful roll to her eyes as she advances on the blonde girl.

Clarke shakes her head. “You know the last time Octavia got in water she almost got eaten.” The blonde tries, but this seems to only amuse Lexa even more.

She cocks her head to the right, as she reaches out with her left hand but doesn’t grab Clarke. “Trust me, Clarke.” She says with a slight raise to her eyebrows and a very sincere expression. Clarke feels her nerves spike as she sighs in defeat and grabs Lexa’s hand, who tugs her until their bodies are pressed together. Clarke knows Lexa has no idea what she’s doing by just having this close of proximity while she is in so little, but Clarke wishes she’d think for a second about how hard it is for Clarke not to kiss her right now. She can feel the curve of the girl’s body against her own and it’s almost enough to make her forget that she can’t just kiss Lexa whenever she wants.

“I won’t throw you in.” She promises, brushing her hands under Clarke’s shirt, her palms flat against Clarke’s skin so the blonde girl is a shivering mess as Lexa begins to remove her shirt. Clarke can feel tingles all over her body, burning in the places that Lexa is touching her. Her heart beats frantically against her ribcage and she can feel the way her lower stomach tightens in some kind of anticipation that Clarke knows isn’t completely realistic to have at the moment.

“You are being very unfair right now.” Clarke protests weakly as she lifts her arms so Lexa can tug the shirt completely off and toss it onto the grass beside them. Lexa’s eyes caress skin the same way that Clarke had looked at Lexa. They dilate slightly, and follow scars almost achingly slowly.

“Am I?” Lexa manages to tease, her voice doesn’t even shake. Her eyebrows shoot up again playfully as a wide smile surfaces along her very pretty features and it’s adorable. Clarke is mesmerized by it while Lexa’s hands slide across her skin and down toward her pants.

If Clarke thought her body had been a mess before, she was definitely mistaken. “I’ve got the pants Lexa.” She immediately protests, stepping back and undoing them herself. She can’t have Lexa touching her legs; she can’t have Lexa pulling her pants off without Clarke losing any control of where their afternoon would go. Her body was already growing entirely too warm.

“If you say so.” Lexa’s tone is still light and still teasing. She knows what she’s doing and Clarke, though is rather flustered can’t find it in herself to be annoyed with it.

Once Clarke has rid herself of the material, Lexa is back in her personal space again, wrapping her arms around her from behind and resting her chin on her shoulder as they both stare at the water. “You do trust me?” Lexa asks, all deep and low in her throat with her breathe hot on her skin.

Clarke feels a fire ignite in her belly at Lexa’s touch, and sucks in a deep breath as she feels Lexa’s lips press against her ear. “ _Right Klark?”_ she whispers and it’s too much but it’s definitely not enough all at once. She wanted to forget swimming all together, she wanted to spin around in Lexa’s arms and capture her perfect mouth against her own. She wanted to hear her breathe catch as she touched her. She _wanted_ and _wanted_ and _wanted_.

She managed a breathless, “yes,” and felt Lexa place a kiss on her shoulder, but her mind was jumbling with thoughts that she knew she couldn’t act on. She felt kind of ashamed that they were there, that she wanted Lexa so badly, but Lexa wasn’t ready for that. In a sense, they both probably weren’t. Lexa didn’t completely remember everything, and Clarke’s mind was clouded with troubles.

But Clarke doesn’t care if Lexa remembers everything or not. She’s always going to be Lexa no matter what, her Lexa. Strong and beautiful and compassionate and sweet. She’s always going to be everything that Clarke loves. It doesn’t matter what version of Lexa, Clarke will get. She wants her for the rest of her life no less.

She wishes she could tell her that.

“I know how hard that is for you,” Lexa says casually, though Clarke can practically hear her grin and the statement makes Clarke laugh until she’s knitting her eyebrows together in thought and twisting in her arms.

“Do you?”

“After you kissed me yes.” She grins as if she’s proud of herself and Clarke launches herself into her arms, pressing kisses on her cheek and squeezing her so tight it becomes harder for the brunette to breathe. “ _Klark_ ,” She protests, holding the girl and laughing as Clarke loosens her grip.

“Sorry,” She mumbles sheepishly. “How much did you remember?” Clarke asks, not being able to stop the smile spreading across her face. Lexa seems to return it, her eyes following the shape of Clarke’s upturned lips. Lexa hadn’t remembered her in a long while, and now here Lexa was, telling her she remembered something of them, but not just something small. She remembers a big step in their relationship. She remembered their first kiss, and that’s more than Clarke could hope for.

“Just you, being... you and,” Lexa stops for a second. Her eyes on her lips again, examining her features as her fingers tangle in her hair and then she’s tugging on Clarke’s neck and kissing her and Clarke can’t help the sigh that escapes her as she responds, her eyes fluttering shut as her heart pounds and her stomach flips and a contentment sets inside of her that nothing else in the world could ever make her feel.

Kissing Lexa is honestly better than anything else ever could be. She tastes sweet and her lips are gentle, as they always have been. Her touch is light too as they move their lips together and the world outside of this moment seems to fade away.

When they part again, after several long minutes, they both breathe heavily in front of each other and then Lexa is smiling down at her. “Are you going to tell me no again?” She asks teasingly, eyes light and humor rolling through them. Lexa looks happier than Clarke has seen her since she found her way to her again. She looks ecstatic, and her attitude is contagious.

Clarke laughs and shakes her head. “What do you want Lexa?” She asks softly, her smile unable to leave her own mouth. Clarke doesn’t care about what she wants; it’s not about her this time. This time it’s all about Lexa, and she wants the girl in front of her, whom she loves more than anything, to know that.

Lexa cups her face between both her hands, and says quietly. “You.” And it’s enough to make Clarke’s eyes water all over again, because she never did think she’d ever hear Lexa says something like that too her again. She never thought she’d touch Lexa, or kiss Lexa, or listen to Lexa laugh ever again. She never thought this moment could ever be possible, and yet, here it was, happening. How did she ever get so lucky?

“No Clarke, no crying.” Lexa protests as she wipes the beginning of Clarke’s tears off of her cheeks with her thumbs while holding her face between her hands. “You always cry when I’m trying to make you happy.” Lexa whispers in disbelief, clearly not understanding why that is the case. It’s so cute and so adorable that Clarke starts giggling between her sniffles, wiping the corner of her own eyes as she offers Lexa a watery smile.

“I am happy Lexa.” And then, in the next moment, with permission she now felt she had, she pulls Lexa back down so they can kiss again and it’s just as gentle and just as soft as every other time. It’s absolutely everything to Clarke. “Happy tears.” She whispers lightly and Lexa is shaking her head, though a smile is plastered to her lips.

“Enough crying, let’s swim now.” Clarke laughs some more as Lexa tugs her toward the water though her nerves spike back up when she feels the liquid touch her feet and any want of learning to swim vanishes. Not that she really wanted to learn in the first place, but Lexa had been rather convincing with her touches.

Lexa, nearly naked and wet from water, was definitely going to be nearly impossible for Clark to resist.

“I’m not sure about this Lexa,” Clarke finally manages to protest yet again. She stops where she is and digs her heels into the mud below her feet to keep herself anchored in her place. All this action does is rip a deep sigh from Lexa’s throat, Clarke also found that adorable.

“You are so stubborn,” Lexa grumbles as if being with Clarke is a demanding job and then she is invading Clarke’s personal space again and lifting her into her arms. She heads into the water while Clarke squeals and demands she be put down though Lexa doesn’t listen, and eventually they’re in deep water while Clarke holds onto her for dear life and Lexa just laughs and tries to encourage her to let go a little.

“Clarke come on,” Lexa loosens her grip on Clarke and the blonde almost screams, tightening her own grip on the stronger of the two.

“I’m going to die.” Clarke utters out dramatically and buries her face into the crook of Lexa’s neck.

“You are not going to die. History has already proven that I go first.” Lexa informs smartly, though Clarke clearly doesn’t appreciate her humor and pinches her side as punishment, which makes the girl flinch away from her touch.

“That’s not funny Lexa,” Clarke scolds, pouting into her neck as Lexa sighs heavily into the air.

“You’re right I’m sorry, but come on, let go of me, I promise I won’t let go of you.” She says encouragingly, and when Clarke peeks out from the crook of her neck to look at her Lexa tries to make her gaze more sincere. It seems to work and Clarke’s grip loosens around Lexa. “Good,” She coos softly in her ear, keeping a tight hold on her. “Now you have to listen to me okay?” Lexa says softly and when Clarke nods, the lesson begins.

It doesn’t take Clarke very long to pick it up, she’s a quick learner and Lexa is patient. She’s sloppy at it, and slow, but Lexa tells her she’s doing great at any second she can, always right next to her, and always there to help if Clarke starts to panic. They swim until the sun is on its way down in the sky and they are both exhausted, coming out of the water, dripping wet and shivering.

Clarke heads toward her bag immediately, but Lexa is grabbing her waist before she makes it and is spinning the blonde around so she can kiss her again. This kiss being a little bit rougher than the others, deeper, a touch of tongue at her teeth until Clarke is no longer shivering for the reason of being cold. A soft moan trying to fight its way out of her throat as Lexa’s tongue touches her own. Her fingers claw into skin and her body hums to the feel. Clarke feels more alive than she has been in a very long time.

“You want to swim with me next Saturday?” Lexa asks sweetly as they part, her breathe as heavy as Clarke’s as her eyes struggle to open to meet pretty green ones. She finds that looking at Lexa like this, wet and shivering and with swollen lips, makes breathing even more complicated.

“I want to swim with you every day.” Clarke whispers into the small space between them, her voice deeper and a lot huskier than before and when Lexa smiles she smiles as well. She sucks in a deep breath as she feels the girl’s nose brush against her own before they are kissing again, long and deep while they hold each other as close as they can both possibly get to one another.

Clarke doesn’t know if Lexa will ever regain her full memory, but she does know that she wants to be with Lexa, and if Lexa wants to be with her. Why should she fight it?

 

 

***

 

 

Raven is pacing in front of the doorway of the polis tower when the girls get back. They’re laughing and holding hands but Raven has no time to worry about it. She’s been waiting here for what’s felt like hours, and since the guards wouldn’t tell her where the pair had went, her search for them earlier had been completely useless and exhausting.

When she sees Clarke coming out of the woods, she descends down the stairs a little too fast and nearly falls over, but adjusts quickly, wincing as she picks up pace. “Clarke!” She shouts when she know she’s in hearing shot, and when the blonde catches the sight of her, she seems to know something is wrong before she even says anything.

“What’s happened?” She asks as they approach each other, though she doesn’t let go of Lexa’s hand. The brunette seems intrigued as well however, unlike she may have been before, Lexa has remembered enough of herself to actually be concerned with commander duties. She always wants to help and Clarke is starting to think that she will let Lexa help, and maybe if Lexa wants at some point later, she can take her place back as _heda_ , since it rightfully belongs to her if she still lives.

She will always be better at it anyways.

“It’s Arkadia Clarke; they got raided by some of those bandits that have been terrorizing the outer villages.” Raven looks panicked and as she speaks, Clarke feels panicked too. Her hand frees itself from Lexa and walks beside Raven as they head back to the tower. Lexa trials behind them but seems to be listening just as intently as Clarke.

“How serious?” Clarke asks immediately after Raven informs her of the news.

“Your mom is okay, and Kane has some injuries but he’s alright too, but they killed some people Clarke. They burned some of the gardens and stole guns.”

“Stole guns, that could mean,”

“Some of skaikru is behind this as well, yeah, I thought of that too. Can you come back with me? We need you there now.” Raven looks over her shoulder at Lexa. “You can come too; your memory is getting better. Maybe you can help.” Raven seems to encourage Lexa’s curiosity, noticing how intently she’s listening and noting the look of concern crossing her pretty features.

Lexa seems to approve of this, though Clarke is speaking up again before she can say anything. “I can’t leave tonight, but early tomorrow. I’ll set everything up. You should stay too.” The guards open the doors for them and Clarke immediately disappears down the hall to leave Lexa and Raven alone together so she can prepare for their departure. Leaving Polis for along amount of time was always a taxing set up. All the ambassadors made it more complicated than it had to be, and with the recent uprising, more pre-cautions had to be taken.

Though Raven’s expression is trouble, she manages to give Lexa a gentle smile before she elbows her in a teasing manor with a slight lift of her left brow and says, “Holding hands are you?” all light and teasing and easy going like and her and Raven have been friends for a long time. It makes Lexa snort out a laugh slightly.

“Kissing too.” She grins proudly and Raven releases a small chuckle are Lexa’s tone. She goes to tease her further but Clarke is coming back toward them so she holds off so she can focus on what Clarke has to say.

“We can leave first thing in the morning, but I want you to leave before us so you can inform Kane to make sure the guards aren’t carrying any guns when we arrive.” Clarke looks very serious about this, and it gains her a curious look from not only Raven but Lexa as well, who has learned over time, despite her fear of guns, that skaikru rather value the wretched things.

“No guns, wh-” Raven begins to ask, but Clarke’s adoring blue gaze she turns on Lexa immediately shuts her up.

She interrupts the brunette girl with a gentle “Lexa,” falling from her lips as if that’s the answer to everything, and Lexa finds that, that makes her heart race even faster than it already does in Clarke’s presences. She likes the way Clarke says her name like that. Like her entire world are attached to just the syllables of Lexa’s name, rotating the earth around the sun just by breathing. Clarke didn’t even try to make her feel special, she was just able to do it somehow, and that was something of a real surprise.

“It’s okay Clarke,” Lexa offers after a beat of silence, her own adoring look crossing her features as she meets a soft blue gaze with her own green one.

“You fainted last time.” The blonde states as if that’s fact enough to never have a gun in front of Lexa ever again.

“I was remembering something terrible.” The brunette tries, but Clarke doesn’t seem like she’s going to have any of it.

“No guns,” She states with finality, her mind is made up and Lexa can’t change it, nor can anyone else. Clarke will do whatever it takes to protect Lexa at all times. She’s already made that promise to herself; she plans on keeping it in every way that she can possibly keep it.

“Alrighty,” Raven pipes up between the two after she feels like she can manage a word in. She claps her hands together as if to further the confirmation. She’s got a look of amusement on her face, despite the heaviness of the situation they are discussing. “I’m going to bed before the both of you make me puke.” She teases and swivels around to head toward one of the many guest rooms in Polis Tower.

“Up before the sun,” Clarke shouts after her before she is completely out of ear shot and Raven just waves her hand behind her head to show that she’s heard before disappearing, and then her and Lexa are once again alone in the room, other than the guards that normally stand ground in the hallways.

“Are you sure you want to go?” Clarke asks gently, not wanting to make Lexa do anything that Lexa doesn’t want to do. Not wanting her uncomfortable or in any danger, and this seemed like a higher stakes matter.

The brunette girl just looked at her softly, eyes all melting and sweet into her own. It made Clarke feel like she was completely grounded, to be looked at like that. “I want to go anywhere you go.” She says lowly, as if to keep the moment between the two of them only and not have the guards overhear, though Clarke is sure they can hear them anyways.

Lexa’s hand finds her own again and their fingers tangle together like they’re meant to be there. Clarke doesn’t think she could ever belong anywhere else. Lexa has a way of grounding her. She has a way of keeping Clarke calm and sane. And as Clarke looks into beautiful green eyes she can’t believe how lucky she is to get the chance to love her again, to love her right and in all the ways that Lexa has always deserved to be loved. To cherish her and protect her and grow with her in life the way that they deserve to grow.

Clarke won’t waste a moment of it.

“Come on, we’ve got an early morning.” The blonde finally says after what feels like forever, and she tugs on Lexa’s hand so they can head towards their room together. It takes them a short amount of time to get there and to get ready for bed, but they both seem wide awake. So they spend lots of time talking rather than sleeping, and honestly, they’ve talked so much already but, this talk feels different. Possibly because they are together, they are finally together and happy, and even though uncertainty brews outside of their bedroom. Together, in this moment, in this room, they are at peace. They lie together, strong and happy and alive, and that is beautiful.

It isn’t tell they are almost asleep that Lexa seems to remember something important, and she’s hopping out of bed and jarring Clarke completely awake again. “Where you going?” She whines, because she’s tired and she wants to snuggle Lexa, but the brunette doesn’t look back at her as she digs into a small box she keeps beside her side of the bed. Clarke knows the box but she doesn’t possibly know what’s in the box right now that would insist Lexa leap out of bed at this very moment, like it’s the most important thing above all other things.

Not until Lexa climbs back into bed and pulls the blonde girl up from her lying position. She grunts in protest but lets it happen anyways. “Gus gave me something to give to you, but I forgot about it.” Lexa is gripping something in her palm but Clarke can’t quite make it out until it’s being slipped on her wrist.

Her eyes water again once she realizes what it is. “I’m sorry I forgot, I meant to give it to you that first night, but so much happened,”

“Where did you get this Lexa?” Clarke asks, fingers tracing it gently, even adoringly as tears leave her eyes.

“Gus had it, he said it belonged to you but I don’t know where he got it. He only told me right before he died.” Lexa offers sadly, and reaches it up with one of her hands to wipe at the tears spilling across Clarke’s face. “You’ve missed it huh?” Lexa says softly into the night and then before she knows it Clarke is launching herself into her arms, gripping her tightly and burying her face in her neck.

“Yes,” she croaks, and a deep, deep piece of her realizes that as long as Lexa is here with her, she can survive anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter and I started nine, so I'll try to get that out tomorrow. 
> 
> my twitter is [@miselizalycia](https://twitter.com/miselizalycia) and my tumblr's [ jazzyjazzin ](https://jazzyjazzin.tumblr.com/) hit me up if you wanna chat and follow me to keep updated and to find out more information on my fanfics.
> 
> Have a great day or night everyone. :D


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